This is a song about "Shooting the breeze"

Niggas wanna know why i'm so nice

The strange fruit, crops growin', blowin' in the breeze,

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

Shooting ink upon the looseleaf like a lazer

Like a tumble weed in the western breeze.

E-t-i-h, w's, double d's on her knees

Ten more depending on where wale going

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Eyes all stickin' like honey on bees

The truth, now it's told, cold 'till in the morning breeze,

And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

Now sit at ease and just shoot the breeze