This is a song about "My brotha"

Grab my knife and my gun

And i know that you're open

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

As he grew up he got more confused

These my rhymes and my story

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

Atl was tipping them

My words are my rhythm

Brotha lynch may be mean

Miami nights, it was all a dream

Apprehend a couple men, triple six is fuckin' sin

My words are my ignition for my ammunition,

Got my head in my hands.

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure