This is a song about "Bands"

We getting money, you can face the facts

Lyrics, couldn't understand, still didn't pop rubber bands

Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants

Gimme a hundred grand, don't need the rubber bands,

Fainthearted bands of lesser rappers drowned in the ensuing storm

Want you all to listen so i rap it in election form

You got me in a trance, please take off your pants

Pirelli on my tires, call me 6 bands

Bubbling bass and bullfrog brooks beside bushes that buzz with bands of bumble bees.

And lastly for everybody who doubted i can't live without you, please

On the corner, a old bitch dropped fifty bands

I got a green bag with them blue strands

Reaper why did you take away all of the good bands?

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands