This is a song about "The homies at the crib chill"

I was at the crib wit my girls you can call me lizzy i

Pick my enemies out the crowd, and motherfucker's die

Went back to the crib with all the homies closed the door

It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for

Call the crib, same number same hood

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

Chillin at the crib alone so you know i'm blasting that music

Those privileged fucks got to learn that we ain't taking no shit

The best journeyacres of land and swimming pools and all that

Then two days later you are shot dead at your crib

Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

Your still in your crib at home while i'm making the streets a war zone

Like a condom that's scuffed up, i'm the wrong one to fuck with

You fly down the crib, get the arses there,and return to the cliff,