This is a song about "My mates"

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

But in reality your just being used.

My cash effected, my brain insane,

So much to say a scrabble game

These my rhymes and my story

Heavy weed smoker, get ounces for free

Now i'm self made; and i'm high paid

I go to my mates and his front doors a gate

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

Worldwide, but i got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades

She crack a smile, i'm finna turn it out

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

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

And tell all you mates that im killin you

And if i do go you better come through