This is a song about "Tween things"

But for long time i had gone cold

All these things until they unfold

My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze

And staying on your smell, uh, licing, twenty year old tween pimple poppin babies

And i'll make things creamy

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

And i like my marijuana bright

Doing every day things, at night

Now i was dreaming bout a deal at the age of thirteen

Simple things yes but to me these things just seem obscene.

Now i'm thinkin about doin some bad things

But the battle ain't over till the black man sings

Cause real niggas do real things

But i don’t mean top 40 hits

And i don't gotta talk about my feelings

Fights break out because of the little things