This is a song about "Banks"

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

Sure runnin' like i'm heavy hardcore

She should have invited her

And on the banks of this river

Fuck a label on my jacket, screw you like a ratchet

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

Wouldn't it be nice if the banks didn't fuck up the loans

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

I get more from banks than aunt vivian

Cold, my style making my nose run

You heard banks was crackin skulls

We race foreign cars, custom models

But it made me the man i am today, thanks

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/