This is a song about "Shootin up the hood"

Under the hood when she looked up saw and thought

If you thought it, it better be what you want

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

And that’s a scary thing, i try to duck em good

Ciroc cock got me shootin' up on a hot block

I'm a fucking walking paradox, no i'm not

Fakers get used to shootin targets, soon as the dark hits

Go and get it motherfucker, if you murder kids

I don't understand how this game made us strangers, look

Just cause im not shootin, smoking, or crippin in the hood

So i, i stack paper and keep it ghetto

Throw my hood up, it's startin to snow

Call the crib, same number same hood

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look