This is a song about "Real homies"

Homies lost their cool-funky flow

I'mma do this fast or slow

Bun b, i’m underground king

Bullets flying, fake homies lying

Where they find me, 16 on death row

My homies in the back screaming "b.i.n.g.o

Fuck her good, make her call me in the morning

All homies that smoke tree nigga they soaring

Homies my only certainty

What them tippers don't see