This is a song about "Living in the hood fucking shit up"

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

People always dying in the hood, stood

By the little camera thing on the fuckin' mac book

These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.

So much fuckin' white make darth vader have a dimmer force

Maybe i'm on acid, living in the 'hood with poorest whores,

Run up in the crib tryna uncover shit

Aye jay, 8 grand skins gonna take that

A couple milli in the bag and my face good

But i get the gang violence that be in that hood

Bet i get it quick lick make it backflip outta town with some how you gonna act shit

And i'm rhymin' up about all of this shit up in the 'hood 'cuz i'm a street poet,