This is a song about "Small african children"

It sting like an african bee , hurts like bullet ants

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

I was a spitting image of my african father/ parents from the

Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga

Don't make any excuses, you want to care for the children

I wanna live my life and ball, make a couple million

They tried to take it, and say that i'm too small

That’s the same block metta world peace learned to play ball

Pictures of me in my final stage you know mama cried

Pushin innocent children of buildings isn't normal right?

There's children dying and i am crying

Flow to my heart, hit the flo' when im dying

You face made blind children cry

Hear the rambling in the sky

I’ll catch my breath a little, money alright where i’m from

You find yourself thinking more about the children