This is a song about "Mates"

Win or losered or bluewe must all stay true

And tell all you mates that im killin you

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Chilling with my mates but i dont give a fuck about rotations

Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace

I would ask who's frank she would say one of my new crew mates with a new face

Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes

Me and a few mates,pinging through the park and jumping a few gates

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

And all they wanna do is be with me, even my mates girls

I'm rapping for my mates

I know what it takes

Swallow the cinnamon, i'mma scribble this sin and shit

My brains the thing that pull it, mates be telling me to cool it

Let me say this shit in slow-mo, homo

I'm missing the mates that i used to know.