This is a song about "Throwing stones in a glass house"

But somehow it made them listen

Shit, six bitches in a crack-house kitchen

I can get straight to the cash

You feel like kool-aid in a wine glass

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

Pick up my knife and slaughter cops in my own house, pigs everywhere like a slaughterhouse,

Never caused disturbance not even impertinence in his class never broke a piece of glass

Cause in the dope game, niggas'll die 'fore they go broke mayneanother hustler makin' major cash

I'll break their jaw like a glass don't worry it'll happen in a flash

I was watching, remote pleaseniggas want what they can't have

I eat you like a afternoon snack, and i pour in the side glass some jack/

The generational gap with yet another sensational track

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

All these grave stones are kept in clean little rows,

Tongue like a young jab throwing joe frazier

Ay yo you wonder who i are