This is a song about "Shooting the breeze"

Hell, ever since i was a little nigga havin' fantasies

It's nothin' to me, nothin' to me, nothin' to me but smoke on the breeze

Masked up, this ain't trick or treat, one wrong move they finna squeeze

But for now just roll it up and just become one with the breeze

Like me, when i'm shooting for the stars/

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

Petrol clouds lurked over several crowds of people in the chilly breeze

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

Ain't no nigga touching my style, it got a force field

Unleash the street beast into the breeze, west or east,

I'm hoping that this letter reaches you

Top down feeling the breeze, no drew