This is a song about "Alcohol and money"

Throw some salt and alcohol on that wound to make it safer

Fuck yo bitch to the weekend, i ain't speaking bout that cd player

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

This aint drug money, baby it's thug money and love money,

A single mother with a problem child, daddy free

Got my fame, the reputation, and the money.

Hustle for money and making livings

I’m so fly i don’t even got wings

What them tippers don't see

Take my bus and bust down money

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

And cash money supermarket like seth,

See i can’t keep you baby girl i'mma confess

But still i was a bad-kid who did alcohol and drugs.

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups