This is a song about "Nine g s"

Call me lazy, i ain't your baby

On hip hop and grime my g,

Go and diss me you're history missing g

You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money

But they can't do nothing to a g/

Third ward general, young cash money

Go like i never seen a red light shine

Till the day that i grabbed that nine

White boy, six foot, packin a nine

So the mind they mine don't coincide with mine

It’s sick and spiteful, 2pac’s twisted grim disciple

And we no la de de da i don't care for any people

It was just fate cause it wasn't my time

In my hand theres a nine