This is a song about "Raid on a home"

I got a love jones for your body and skin tone

Got your head in a bag as i'm walking home,

Fuck a pest, we ain't in raid drought

Don’t know if i’m ‘posed to take you out

You left your nigga on his own

Scanner on my dresser, i work at home

And one day you're gone grow to be a rolling stone

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

And my wrist froze, but i’m cool sha’, like a bald head, i’m too paid

He's up front in a stomping parade but astrayed from the raid,

You gon' miss a good thing, end up bitter alone

With changes coming to a place known to me as home

I was alone on the fone cause no one answered at home

For imitatin the off switch like i'm on top of my own

You pussy emcees need to get a taxi home

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne