This is a song about "Selling drugs in the hood"

If theres a time that in the hood

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

Been bad all my life, i was raised in the hood

It's pain in my eyes but these yves saints blind you to look

People always dying in the hood, stood

A couple milli in the bag and my face good

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.

And that they love to see us all go to prison or die

By selling drugs and pissin hot and gettin high

In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux

Drivin' my impala and selling drugs

And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book

Sometimes i would sneak out in the night with my black hood

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good

Better than your bitch would,i can kill yall niggas in the fucking hood.