This is a song about "Roots manuva"

I call all my troops to go back to the hip-hop roots,

And you ain't gettin' it, 'til you start payin' jewels

Seeds and roots and leaves of money trees, cream by any means,

Your bitch is a hood bitch you can find up in these streets

Why hear a commentary about the truth and its evil roots?

Ain't had shit to loose, pullin' my pistol on them fools

And missin' for the nightman this shit is just that easy

West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,

Strange fruit grew from wicked roots, you'd fiend for money trees

Your bitch likely tricking off and bruising up her knees

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

Real artists blow up and they forget their roots,

Some learn so i grew my own roots

Mariah tunes and five flutes

Black thoughts never explore their roots, up under me,

Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money