This is a song about "Shootin up the hood"

This information is vital, look

Call the crib, same number same hood

Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli buried

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

Be financially stable or busting tables for paper

I'm an evil clown, shootin up the town getting dough like a baker

And i'm rhymin' up about all of this shit up in the 'hood 'cuz i'm a street poet,

All i wanna know girl what yo name is, i see them other niggas they be on that lame shit

She ain't tryna go low, go head home

Nothing in my way shootin for the thrown

Summertime in the city

I got the hood behind me

The skin is thick, no need for leather, your father called

Under the hood when she looked up saw and thought

That wet wet in my two seaterher nails done, her hair did

Shootin past the sun, outta the milky way unlike any rocket