This is a song about "Niggas and strippers and hoes and weed and cars and ghetto and sagging and ebonics"

They would spit and clap ya, but speak fake ebonics,

Cause the media is full of dirty tricks

Smoke weed and pop bottles my real niggas be pouring

Destinies fulfilled off the filling from the pillow talking

Islamics and those few broke folks who spoke ebonics,

Think it's time you and i need to call it quits

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings

Trayvon martin wore a hoodie and probably spoke ebonics,

Ebonics and the kids from the ghetto speak a language,

Look into your eyes i realize that i like you so much

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

You got your mean little walk with the model pose

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Bought the dope and have hoes

She's bad and she knows