This is a song about "Tramp homies"

All homies that smoke tree nigga they soaring

You kidding meit's really nothing to me and my king

Homies could get they dividends

I like rollin' with friends

But i guess it's the skill of a well made up tramp.

I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last

We're living in a fantasy

Mobbing with the homies and family

* amalgam digital download bonus track

Or knowing that my homies got my back

Bullets flying, fake homies lying

Okay i’m lying, but i’m trying

Homies dying like this is fucking war times

Can't be positive, when the ghetto's where you live