This next track is for all my straight n***as out there, my hood n***as. My Grammy n***as, ya dig? Trap n***as. Whatever you wanna call it, homie. For real, n***a. You know what I'm sayin'?
That's what this shit all about. Sad to say, but shit, it just is what it is. Real talk, n***a. Count this money, ya dig? This Charlie. This [?]. This guap. This cake, this mulah. Hah, for real, n***a. You out here in these streets n***a, and you fuckin' up, n***a, you got a motherfuckin' so-called circle, n***as that you fuck with. Nggas ain't telling you that you fuckin' up? And n***as on they shit. And ain't tryna put you up on your shit. For you to be a n***a good out here n***a. Ain't your n***as, get the fuck away from that circut, ya dig? For real, n***a. Fuck with that [?], get you some [?] n***as around your motherfucking circle, n***a. You do that shit, you ain't got shit else to worry about, ya dig? [?]. You feel me. Holla at your boy