This is a song about "Tiptoein in my jordans"

Chronic in my system, liquor in my cup

Bitch-made since 6th grade, he need his rope cut

Sitting in my chair relaxing in the sun

Ok, black panamera, dash on a million

Straight to my partner room and let him beat it like a keyboard

Rockin in my jordans so i guess im space jammin on your ball court

I’ve seen this young’un on the train, i had to pick his brain

From these monsters in my brain i be swerving in my lane

Im my own person in my own lane,

Take advice keep it clean don't complain

I start to think it's all planned

So rest in peace in my hand

Yow am ridin around in my

Thuggin' till the day i die

But there's a devil in the ghetto tryin to tear it apart

In my jordans so i guess im space jammin out your back yard