This is a song about "Market capitalism"

Took a trip to a market, and saw all the candy

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

We gotta set our own market, and enforce it

Actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

Organs pieced out and sold to black market elderly,

Spit calmly, the market only gave out tickets

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

Yeah, inglewoodinglewood always up to no good

You try to call the cops a new snitches on the market.

Chanel slippers on my bitches like you go love

Put on the black market, skin sold as garments.