This is a song about "Informer"

It got me agitated, frustrated, but fascinated.

The snitch on the block... is going to get assassinated

And spewing corruption all on your shoes; papa sang the blues

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice

She's your garden peach, you're her guard indeed, gonna charge, besiege

You might not understand my speech but you can feel the heat