This is a song about "Native"

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

That in it's native alphabet, you can't understand

My nomo could be found in stores but the jersey only nomo got

Got up, voice says look up, surrounded by members of the native mob,

And i open up the door you bring her cranky ass with you

Whats his native people, find it harder for nights to sleep through,

And it's time to make a real native separation from the fake friends

Cause i'll be honest: i ain't tryna be a victim of the projects