This is a song about "The homie j hen balls and gets lit"

Got home and see the police told my homie was killed.

Every day's harder, ain't nothin here promised

We gonna ball all year, nigga know that

Now my eyes chinese, keep the loud lit

I put the nigga in his casket

Chill with asap and get get lit

Fire lit, diffuse the wick, mixed with vodka and gin,

I know they pay me too much of attention

D j t j, the best, do his thing

Someway, somehow nigga feeling

Crack the balls,and make jokers laugh as they work for fee,

Bitches tend to love a nigga with the most money

Light the j like racist light the cross and then i face it

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that