This is a song about "Tweed heads"

On top of me the feds, economy's poverty, gotta be the heads,

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense

I'm about about to send their heads spinning

I cannot believe you think you young and tripping

Leave with their heads in a nap sack

Where the black girls get their weaves back

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

And seeing my parents with their palms placed on their heads

I used to write rhymes, all day and all night

Bucket heads and goonies in common sight

Smackin heads on the pavement,

If you ever feel alone and