This is a song about "Poppin willys and back to that hood shit"

Every third lady that flirt, want my chirp lately

And looking back at all the shit, that seems so fucking crazy,

And i'm rhymin' up about all of this shit up in the 'hood 'cuz i'm a street poet,

It use to be love, happiness and companionshipremember when i treated you good

And if you get to screamin that you gonna clap back

Catch me in the city with the trunk on crack

And me? i'm fresh prince, i'm will smith to the hood.

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

Im a fuckin maniac, poppin prozac, and chasin the shit with hennessy cognac,

Homie, if it was me, you'd do the shit for mehomie, i can remember scrappin' back to back

That white whip sit like a slight wrist slit

I had to fight back and shit

When you're fuckin' close to gettin' beat up and poppin' bones,

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks