This is a song about "The structure of the federal reserve"

And i don’t know why you sucker niggas can’t see

Violence, crime, famine, lack of structure, poverty,

The name of the game is

Thug shit, i keep a beamed out fifth

My d & p frizest, they haven't seen the streets yet

Beat of the drum soon the rhythm of the dead.

Reserve on the low low, haters disappeared and i ask where they go though.

I'm popping champagne, drinking till i'm jumping out the window

Then you put fertilizer, lyin, spread the shit around

That plague the families, lack of structure, it's a dumping ground,

In the face of the outside.

And you, you know what i like

Ya weed quiet, you broke, y’all eaten lean pockets

Suddenly i see a structure of some sort... blood and sweat drips...