This is a song about "Own"

Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are

My own pace, rocking the beat of my own drummer

Remove each individual organ they own

It's time to turn the streets into a war zone

I write my own lyrics and i make my own beats

Goin crazy, i might be no sleep having light dreams

Living out his own pocket with his very own promise

Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus

I do all this on my own

So i parked in a tow-away zone

Own decisions either

Something worth dying for

Real street nigga, ain’t no clone

Or you’ll end up on your own

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

Kicked out of his own house by one of his own daughters