This is a song about "Tops"

And boppers hopping on the tops of cops 'cause i say so

We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though

Man in the mirror, i can’t get my shot again

Everything about me tops all of them

While yall walk down the street with yall halter tops

I'm too explosive for your ears like i'm throwing bombs

We clouds from a spliff, touting and spouting quips off the bare tops

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

I'm after you bringing traffic through

Tops until i pop a shot into your iq

Blood stainin black and white tops

Ya'll had your run, don't ruin ours

And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Definitely melting your mind like melting pots i'm melting tops

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops