This is a song about "Me and my homie thomas chilling at new urban"

But me and my mom poor all at the very same time

I spit murder, every bar is a crime

Snipers chilling in idol building waiting to take my life and end it

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

If your my homie then show me

You see now that nigga lonely

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win

To my homie charles bronson cause we been through thick and thin

Looking at me and my dre beats

Now i'm living out my dreams