This is a song about "Running thew money fiering squad weed"

Malcolm x: get yo hand out my pocket

My squad is who i get it wit

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed

Let's roll a j and pretend we in love

Leave your whole squad of corny vocalists hopeless

I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family

845 brick squad on the track/

Snapple fact: you rather wack

I'm on the run, keep running

I'm doing the same thing

Begin to make me feel like a little kid again

Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain