This is a song about "The crips"

From the bottom to the top

You know i am not gon stop

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Gang banging with bloods and crips

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

Something like rihanna while i’m up in that vagina

In the heat of the summer,

Life’s a bitch and i feel her

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

Hes got on some crips kicks

Help me pay my little rent, maybe sit in a benz

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

The weed into the bong

Pay dues like a hair salon

So these bars not mine, nigga it's yours

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