This is a song about "Robbin"

Robbin' emcees blind of skill, now he's poppin' shit off,

In your gold pot addin' extra sauce because

Of course i'm robbin' too, i ain't got the loot to cop some shoes,

From where they take them old beats and turn em into news

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

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

'case a nigga get haphazard and start thinkin bout robbin a light skin bastard

It's like i'm an alien who alienates by the herd, so as far as being heard

Resort to robbin' to feed my family

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree