This is a song about "Bitches money bars"

With terms of release, bitches, money and yachts

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

You cant even handle 2 bars

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

My dick, stupid bitches

I'm a force to be reckoned with

Tell them to keep it running, i’m keeping the grass cut

Money come and money go still money problems addin up

I know that cars and gold bars can bring in bitches and dough,

Before you know it, she wet enough to get drowned slow

Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga

Where's your bars about money? for fuck sake you're from america,

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

And your readin my bars

You pull up in parking lots