This is a song about "Shoot up the rival hood"

Dougie fresh up in the hood and he's bringing me my weed

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

We magnetizing the ghetto

Throw my hood up, it's startin to snow

Fuck what i say lets shoot this bitch up like it's the french revolution!/

And i be feeling like hova when y'all was sleeping on him

When timbo is in the party, everybody put up they hands

I'll pick up your bill then shoot you dead and the tangueros will tip their hats

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

Yeah, inglewoodinglewood always up to no good

I would never ignore you ‘cause i'm forever loyal

Then for efficiency we shoot up ya funeral