This is a song about "Stomped on children heads"

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

All the innocent little children

So next time i come, i'll bring you one

Y'all niggas about to feel thisbreak out the champagne glasses and the motherfuckin' condoms

Millions are driven to federal prisons, what goes on in the heads of the victims?

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

We've just never discussed what's on in our heads

Money i make em buck

Have heads turning on the scene, -what-

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

You stomped on the blacks, took 'em, made it harder,

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense

On top of me the feds, economy's poverty, gotta be the heads,