This is a song about "Bout it"

Then some big-shot producer thought it was 'bout time,

Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line

But tell me what does it gain, talkin' 'bout make it rain

Od'd on that mitchell-ness you thought it was '03 again

And i shall commence that i'm the truth, joe

It gets bigger though. they only bout the dough.

My finger's on the trigga and nigga i'm 'bout to pull it

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

What you talkin' 'bout if it ain't 'bout the money?

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

You don't get it now give it 'bout a year or two

And you faker than willy wonkareal shit, i told you

We bout to set it off, turn the lights on,

Full of shit, like i ate that john

Pack it up cuz you bout to hear a rebelz yell.

Calling niggas really knowing they dont give a hell