This is a song about "Wheelieng bikes rolling on drug dealers ragging round beamers pullin out blades"

One can never be judged when he dress like his brothers

Drug dealers live in poverty in gutters with their mothers,

What you want me to say

Drug dealers til this day,

But everybody is a g with the weed in them

Hustlas ‘n drug dealers struggling passed their troubles ‘n

Be peddling on bikes to the border flipping bitches like a quarter

Oughta eat the bitch with salt and wash it down with a gallon of water

With such an ugly picture in it and

The drug dealers hit the street running the pavement.

Your pullin on my hair

They're tryin to say that i don't care

Reason i stuck with the sound

Fists out, swingin' 'till the 56th round

And all the girls we knew that screamed fuck you going let me then

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,