This is a song about "Popo in the streets"

The popo aint numbered yet, my mind still backed up

Dump his dead body outta my pick up truck

But not the same kind thats back in the streets.

My weed and my broad exotic with no seeds

Way too big for my my fucking jeans

My heart sank when my bro was shot in the streets,

I came up in the streets, stay duckin' police

I’m a beast when my shit hits the streets these niggas cease

Cops won't look in the streets,

No time to plot retreats

Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done

Marching in the streets singing " we shall overcome"/

Growing up in the streets was easy

Once as a slave who imagined being free

I glanced seeing some haters in the streets

Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats