This is a song about "The westside"

This the clash of the titans

Without the sound of guns

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

The good comes with the bad, the bad with the ugly

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

Huh, a metaphor of course

She should have invited her

Than the birds on the wire

Odd future is children that's fucked up in they mental

Westside/ flow like im from bedstide/ make a nigga tremble

Smoking khaled, my weed the best

Take the exit, the nearest left