This is a song about "Trying to make it out the hood"

Four cuban links on my neck, trap out the hood

All my homies in this thang wish a nigga would

And don't you bring your camera phone

Im trying to make myself known

And my bank account look just like a phone card

Trying to live life to the fullest and make my mark

For you while you are on the couch, trying to rate it

Corvette so clean you'll think bruce springsteen rid that

They need a shovel just to make it out the door to get more of it

Homie will never love her, although he'll probably have a fit

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

Yeah, inglewoodinglewood always up to no good

Okay so i'm not trying to make you cry so i'm going to end it here.

Tupac, the nigga of truth, the nigga of heart, back when he was the real deal//

She gon’ ride this dick, i had a long day

Hopin u can make it out, trying everyday