This is a song about "People like to be the heroes and stuff"

Trickin’ shit for kids and you know i dont need no cereal

Like what priests speak under steeples preaching to the people

What happened to the stuff we used to do?

Ya so fine i got to give it to you

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

Tricks keep the stuff and hate creeps

Or if it doesn't get props, comments and stuff like that

But the fifteen credits had a nigga off track

I wouldn't fuck another girl out of the club

I was taught to let the bad stuff go and suck it up

The kind of stuff im pouring makes the bandits go to sleep,

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

See people to be leaving the cold medina

How you niggas pimpin if you spendin on vagina

You think i'll get all soft just cause you're talkin shit to my mom

I'll be cursing out like the people on internet talking about islam