This is a song about "Indian brothers"

Fathers and brothers gritty dimple smiles

What we gotta do to survive

But when i fuckin' go, lucifer will probably have my soul

All my west indian niggas got me speaking creole

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

When they're just like each other, they're even maybe brothers,

Let there be made brothers,

Talking of the gods you serve

I fucked my whore than stabbed her in the heart, like im an indian from indiana jones,

I maybe funny but i'm always taking money, plus i ain't throwing jokes,

Born in 95 im my brothers keepers

Yessir, lets have a toast for the girls

You and i were basically brothers

We should fuck each others mothers

But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love

My daughters will have brothers acting overprotective,