This is a song about "Street love you"

I ain't even start yet, this is propane

Look at you... going down helm street lane,

Take you to your fucking grave along with yo whole tiny street

Your bitch fuck us up: every nigga that she meet

They claim it as their own, africa

See you hoes in the street and i murda ya

Like you never get right? sort of like a black sheep

You want a big house cz your living in the street

Heard you can't sleep, elm is now is your damn street

Fine women love losers, that treat 'em bad and cheap

Me and my niggas swarm on you like the killer bees

Street poets fantasizing, but i'm here to tell you stories,

Im telling you imma street fighter,

J. cole's her ghost writer

// [bitch you get (no love)]

Or know them testament verses