This is a song about "Cursing bmw lashanti money"

You was tired of the cursing

In my drawsring, ring, ring

I don't like you touching my things that's why i'm cursing and swearing

So, suicide i perceive, before i slide on that ring

They alll ran out of money.

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

Rain, sleet, snow, 'bout the money

You a lady boss, now you fly free

Fuck it, momma's proud of her asthmatic thin fuck

And then your bmw gonna need to be tuned up,

But the money don’t stack, man money overlap

Came home shit is real niggas still in the trap

Talkin' thathip-hop shit, don't get shot bitch

Young money young money yeah we getting rich