This is a song about "Working suckers to death"

And this world's mine, but the womb is hers

New orleans, swag, wild style, foul child, suckers,

I used to turn to churches for help but it wasn't working,

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Nearly broke the guys fuckin arm and got kicked nearly to death

Everybody coming home deserve a white benz

Grow older, closer to death.

I'm hoping i confess

New orleans, swag, wild style, foul child, suckers,

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

Just to try to get a piece of success, love me less

I'm sick of seeing ghetto-grown kids who nearly fight to death,

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

I'm trying to clear shit up, and make sure my concerts working,

Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed

I had a mother, working trying to make ends meet.