This is a song about "Their"

And it runs up though their brains and relaxes in their dome,

Say what you want i'm immature like roger go home

People judge others based on their pigments under their skin

I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to thugz mansion

And their throats be, closin up in fear till their choking

You know that love is a very serious thing

Brandun deshay, hodgy beats, ace the creator

But their frustration shouldn’t make their lives in danger,

Complex are their theories and their views, the metal speaks,

They want me unemployed, until i hit the streets

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads