This is a song about "Keep calling"

And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for

I'll keep cursing the pastor calling him worse than a cancer

Spit, spit, spittin calling me a liar,

And if my mother answer, i'll ask her

Degrade our women calling them hoes and bitches

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

The world should turn as soon as my records spin

Pigs calling me disrespectful cus im still yawning

Pianist playing with #locked #keys, calling me #cocky

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Whining and complaining about when you coming home

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

And im back and calling shots, calling whos shot

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

It's like 6 pm and his bitch is calling

That's because thats these compton streets was built not to win