This is a song about "Orchestrated violence"

I spit that 1980 pryor, that l.a. '92 violence/

Have you with professional killas, chasing hits

Y'all always on that bs and ps i'm takin all things

If you look to your left there is violence

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

Surrounded by drugs violence and sodomy

They grow up in cycles of poverty and violence,

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

It’s an endless cycle, of drugs and violence,

So here i am at the store for some chips

And violence towards others

You little young-ass motherfuckers

'fore you love you a nigga, try loving your kids

Combine violence, silence, phonetics

So i guess that's where i hide my things

And my condition to start violence