This is a song about "Robbin jeans"

Took her to the club bought her three more bottles

Gangsters robbin', shooting back, mama's sobbing pedals,

Like jeans in the summer, oh what a bummer, i wonder

Just be there to help me and support me that's what you're here for

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

I have a pocket full of dreams, but not the jeans yet

Interference of dreams or whatever it means put on some tight jeans

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

Resort to robbin' to feed my family

I'm young, black, gifted, live my life on the run

"billie" in my "jeans", rest in peace mike jackson!

Got the vans on, plaid shirt and some skinny jeans,

Don't nobody move when we walk tha streets

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Clutch her jeans while she kicks, osama asked for my tricks.