This is a song about "Bitches turning up"

Bitches lining up lines snortin like its a banquet, so high bitches leaving me babies in baskets,

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

Say what you want i'm immature like roger go home

With canons hanging from our necks like it's a mothafuckin' circus

These bitches gettin' shady, tryna' catch me up on purpose

It's time to turn the streets into a war zone

Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

Im twisting bitches up like they handlebars

Bitches suck me up like they just blazed it

Don’t gotta shop, i ain't paying for shit