This is a song about "Banks"

We race foreign cars, custom models

You heard banks was crackin skulls

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

I stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet

Banks fail and get billion-dollar bail-outs, it's sad to call it,

I get more from banks than aunt vivian

To speak from the soul and just leave it with them

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for

The river of death has brimmed his banks

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

But when i knock this shit off, i'mma go and buy some laker shit

Decides everything, the wall street banks, no they're loving it,