This is a song about "You have fake jordan s"

Hoping that hip-hop can surface and go-go again

Till you scream " what s my what s my name whats name!!!!

That´s not what we taught you, you swore an oath

They disregard me, i guess they all got egos

Pocket racked up all big faces

Rip this is for you jordan davis

Welcome to the dirty south,we don't have 40's it's a 30 ounce

I step through the stomach, replace the baby with some fucking pounds

All you niggas dead , dead fake

Talk sharp like a razor blade

My g"s have been handcuffed,

Clap two times if you drunk

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Like im michael jordan major, you niggas harold miner

Maybe tomorrow i won't have to fake

Tonight no pitchers, everything's straight