This is a song about "Trapping on the weeknds"

Trapping with the hood rats

If i don't make that man there dance

Run for cover and return fire

Than the birds on the wire

Burning up,turn the fan on/

Full of shit, like i ate that john

Layin on his chest in the sand time forgotten on the dash.

And there's wet pussy on my face shake that ass

My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom

Picked the worst career to be stable on, cable's on

Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing

Your bars are far from attractive they need to stick to trapping

My shit on the radio your shit on the shelf

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears

Always wanted a piece of the pie, now it’s sliced right

And on the 7th day, focus on seeing the light