This is a song about "Ron weaver"

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

How have you never heard of me, i'm rap's ron burgundy,

I'm a dream-weaver, your night's mare n' the ringleader

I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free

Peace to ron g, brucey b, kid capri

Niggas a star wove straight from weaver gitana

Throw him off the banister, shoot him on camera

Dream weaver smoking that white widow out my bedroom window

Kids ain't like reggie jackson, nicki barnes their hero

And then in the future, a weaver

Foam game shitting on irish springs and lever

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

For the next thing down your chimney has u between sheets like ron isley

We buy guns and more guns, to give to the young

And he's killin' emcees 'till blood spills like ron goldman,