This is a song about "Yw teens"

Heads were droppin', pistols poppin', teens coppin' metal,

To make karma come faster than she normally will

He isn't in his middle teens, his voice sounds like he's hundred

And you can check my stats cuz worldwide they attesting to that

Ive killed 218 babies 2180 teens 21800 men and 218000 slutty hoes,

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

And the pressure on us teens becomes immense

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

To get ourselves up out that dream, no i’s in team

Or peachy keen scenes of teens, nothing was squeaky clean,

And young teens how get shot at gas stations for loudest music,

Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit

Spotty teens with braces,

Hop off the bus