This is a song about "Poverty"

How can it exist? poverty; in my life

Hot man, god damn, killa cam be live

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

We need to fix these streets, people livin’ in the poverty,

We grew up in poverty, y'all wonder why we talk money,

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

Since nautica was popular than popular for good

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

Drug dealers live in poverty in gutters with their mothers,

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

All we got now is crime, death, sickness, and poverty,

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see

But it’s hard to believe with all this poverty and crime,

Selling cane, getting brain, at the same damn time