This is a song about "Capital gains tax"

And i'm the same, on e'erything i love, or everything i love

You fake niggas like great and randy u go unnoticed like the capital of

Maybe im overreacting count up my gains then subtract em,

Niggas hate us, but we famous so i never blame them

Found out she living off tax that's hood, then started my attack

Pouring liquor for my niggas that was killed, send em back

Always stressed about something whether it be the tax rate

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

Capital irrational never givin you factual

Or popeyes, we don't keep no birds in the circle

So i guess that's where i hide my things

Fuck the tax rates! they've challenged my patience!

If i don't make that man there dance

Spit on em and say "fuck that wicked tax"

"what are these wealthy tax breaks that you all are asking of?"

But i need your faith in me, i'm a sucka for love