This is a song about "Mean kids"

They bringing me fish and chips

Stories we were told as kids

She likes the way it hits her lips

I wanna feed my babys kids

Only if ya know what i mean

Through the years tryin to stack a little green

You ain't never seen

Brotha lynch may be mean

To see me and my chicks in dkny kicks

A lesser measure of beggar kids

But love my music, say i do nothing but hits

Why are the little kids having little kids

Maybe cuz her dad used to be mean

Starin at the wall, heard a scream

So far you nasty, ff-fuck you call that

And i mean it (and i mean it)