This is a song about "Young homies"

Call all my closes homies dr though

Counting 100 grand i pulled it from my last show

Bullets flying, fake homies lying

You can't unwind it. rising and climbing

Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, bitch

Young money young money yeah we getting rich

Ironically it subs like a hero

My homies in the back screaming "b.i.n.g.o

Jill scott on my ipod, as my head rests

Homies could get they dividends