This is a song about "Raised in the hood"

I'm not black and i wasn't raised in a hood

A couple milli in the bag and my face good

So i gotta get my point across like a snitch would

To seperate myself when they think i live in the hood

Aye, hold your head homie, look

People always dying in the hood, stood

For petty sake not even heavyweight, it's never good

Supporting a real rat pack still live in the hood

Sometimes i would sneak out in the night with my black hood

Since nautica was popular than popular for good

I was so young, raised in the streets of fort smith, homegrown

Paparazzi, magazines: please leave me alone

I rap for the children who don't wanna be in the hood,

Stealin' phones to call home but the line is off the hook

Shit, i don't give a fuck, your family looking for you, wish them good luck

With his hood raised up, this boy is lacking luck, combating in blood.