This is a song about "The bros"

They say the money talks and bullshit walks

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Hoes and bros and average joes chillin' like a sick villain,

Living in a box full of cuyahoga booze, and listen

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Watch this, hey quik let me see them binoculars, nigga

If that, the rest of you niggas get lapped, i sit back

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

Without a doubt, a sure-fire way to get your mother fucked

The water from the past is the same water in the present

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

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,