This is a song about "The monroe doctrine"

White coke, tan dope, black gun, trey deuce

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

Stuck in the in the tub,

She was the queen of the club

Yea, obie tricepour out a lil' liquor nigga

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

I don't trust no one

The bigger the the fun

Run a cartel like a real rick ross

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

In the coupe with the tec, it's the home of the brave

Keep yo' head up and try to keep the faith

I ain't being facetious saying i speak for the culture

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,