This is a song about "Choy"

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

She never judges u for all the fucked up things that u done did,

Fully exhaled up and repaired his brain damage...

And smoke wannabe emcess like a bag of cabbage

Loadin out with my rap service, let it out on the pad i make the whack versions

This shits nuts, inclined but the signs worsen/ trying to lift up your minds curtains