This is a song about "Our"

And he tryna make it front row to the show to throw me one

Work everyday for the praises, our work our haven

Straight shots don’t toast champagne

Their failure's our shame

Our debt is crazy because our money is just printed numbers

Now let me start by sayin my dad is betta than most others,

... that our existence is troubled

Fresh to death that bullshit irrelevant

We don't ever make love

Expanding our chances

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

Guess our trends dose and our melodies closure

Trying to live our lives like our lives are so golden

The mirror's screaming at me saying i'm emmi lola's son

The unconditional love that we share for our families and our mothers

One less hungry mouth on the welfare!"first ship em dope and let em deal to brothers