This is a song about "Mad at me"

Well, wait; won’t my mom get mad at me?

This is like riding through the city

Ouch me bad like i'm mad

I know what you do with that

I'm feedin her the light just like what the chorus say

Media scapegoat; who they can be mad at today

Of me winning with these mad bitches snitching.

Ricky is sitting, baba was sitting

Smoke ? you know it taste good

Now im mad at the hood like a crook

Cuz she like the dirty southern drawl that the yanks get mad at.

Like you threw something to me-so i threw em back

And i ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love

My aces got mad body cases, preserve spaces at the horse races

We both had dreams of being great

When i was mad at fate