This is a song about "Wannabe thugs"

//for racial violence victims labeled as gangster thugs

Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks

You're just a wannabe

I'm sitting on this couch, wrist bloody

Great steeple in place to rest thugs

I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

Try me, battle me. crybaby, wannabe.

Gangsters are pussies and thugs are lame

Searching for fortune and fame

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

All of you illiterate joe's are illegitimate thugs