This is a song about "Little brothers"

Niggas couldn’t tell if i was dead or alive

Fathers and brothers gritty dimple smiles

And you can underrate me, but i know what i'm worth

The hate that caused the conflicts that turned up brothers,

I'm tryna stay with you, lay with you

Branko brothers gone and gang wars too

Probably fuck up your budget, yea, i’m playing with numbers

We love each other, nothin' subtle, be like fuckin' brothers,

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

When your religion has made decisions to spill the blood of brothers,

So brothers sisters and cousins could embrace

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

You can never tell me that i'm not hungry

I have four brothers that look up to me

My brothers need some clothes and shoes

Its cold as shit in this booth