This is a song about "Speaking whats right"

Im told to do whats right, and always be the friendly one,

Dropping my gunor as high as a kite hitting hoes for fun

We buying they hoes bags, getting they bitches shoes

A young wack herald, speaking the truth

All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed

Speaking of chest,i got a knive that could breach in your vest right after your preaching your best

Hundred k in twenty-two hours

Whats wrong is right, they have no doubts

Ive been in points in my life, where i dont whats right,

If you something like paid you can fuck tonight

Wait till my flow get's like an italiano speaking

Shawty look half indian and never say a thing

Motherfucker i'm spitting, its a whole new way of speaking.

So that make you a queen, surviving anything