This is a song about "K mob"

K tryin' to explain, fake rappers are on the reign

Then i wait for them days to turn good again

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

Got up, voice says look up, surrounded by members of the native mob,

K and b is rarer than a piece of golden coal

Baby i beg to differ, bet you can polish a pole

Streets is calling square niggas leave a message

Ridin through my hood with the k with no brakes bitch

Foes has got to realize, the mob on a killin, robbers gott a stealing,

Smoke that weed then we do the damn thang every evening evening

You gotta look at reality, understand that shit so you don't get caught

It gets me madder than a mob, it gets me thinkin' i'd rather rob