This is a song about "Shcool mates"

Sit the fuck down all you old niggas stand me, faggot

My brains the thing that pull it, mates be telling me to cool it

I'm missing the mates that i used to know.

She probably had a reason though

Something worth dying for

But my mates said i'm a loser

When i get to warwick avenue

And tell all you mates that im killin you

I would ask who's frank she would say one of my new crew mates with a new face

Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace

Bitch no days off and i ain't got no breaks

My so called mates all turned to snakes

I go to my mates and his front doors a gate

That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape

I know what it takes

I'm rapping for my mates