This is a song about "Sunday bbq with cases"

We're sick of law enforcement and all the cases they beat,

Stuck in positions. if victims can't stand the heat

Mama always told me i’d be famous

On re up, need strips in cases

And then rainbow on sunday

All them niggas pitch verbs, so they say

But you been looking for love in all the wrong places

They try to sue us up in court, lawyers, open cases,

With hi-tek on the score, once more, of course

Chicken nugget biscuit in a bbq sauce

Like dexter i store your blood vile cases

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus

All my niggas rolling, and we bout that gun play

Pray every sunday, go to work every monday/

And i ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love

Because it's the third world, those dictators are basket cases,