This is a song about "Street gangs"

I’m way harder than the concrete

Now we all in the street

U'll get shot by gangs of cops for attempting rhino poaching

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

I said i got my ass beat

I see the kids on the street

Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks

‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,

Seein' dreams in they sleep

Yea we hard on the street

Claiming i rap like i'm street,

I pray the lord my guns to keep

And gangs with specific crews, brother against brother,

I got that same hunger, rock-a-fella chain hunger

From the back seat, back seat

Wen i walk down ya street