This is a song about "Life on the streets"

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

Trynna scavenge on the streets for some trashy dinner

And i ain't spend a minute up in the streets

Coughing phlegm on the streets as history repeats

Hit me up on the streets

Ass shots in her seven jeans

Once upon a time, i was standing on the streets

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

Its hard for a black man on the streets

Now i'm living out my dreams

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

It's burning slow, even though life on the streets kinda cold

But that's the way it goes when you're raised on ghetto streets,

Both: we both love our moms, women with grown women needs

Mention me in a tweet, speak of me on the streets,

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves