This is a song about "Three sons empire just came of jail rich"

Or a fake like you out of the blue i'm throwing a mackaveli like you off the empire

And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire

Becoming a good rapper ain't that easy of a process

Polluting my computer are the sons of such medusas//a mess

Niggas is kemba walker tryna see me pitfall

You heard i was in jail, well i just came from the mall

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

From the discussion of top three

Plus i keep it on lock, like i'm part of the jail

Got a whole lotta bmi checks in the mail

Hit the block like a postman with mail

They worked together to get out of the jail,

All for dough to close the mouths of the hungry sons whom she bestowed her vows

Why people want you single every time that you got a spouse

Father was rich enough to pay, child would never have any sons

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience