This is a song about "Pantry home"

I thought van-city was home

Blowing head back, bottles by the zone

Asshole flowers, going home

Put my number in your phone

And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone

A boy who feels his home, just ain't his home

Matter fact, my connection's pretty weak at home

Hit towns with coke, a .45 blue as chrome

Its a home run, your domes done, go home son

Bet your bottom dollar before i'm done

She goes on in, walks into his home,

You gotta learn how to walk on your own

Heart made of stone

If u wanna get home

You left your nigga on his own

Because i’m ready to come back home/