This is a song about "Dealing with poverty and rapping fast and being gangsta"

Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus

Your gone, you retreat to your rapping technique, dealt with and helpless

Gangsta rap and the days of the trash junkies,

I’m a beast when my shit hits the streets these niggas cease

And people day to day dealing with me, feeling with me,

Everybody watching while you touching real money

Rapping with meek mill and the whole entire dream chasers.

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

The people ain't got shoes for they feet, or food to eat

And i laid some rhymes for you on this funky gangsta beat

When miles davis cuttin lose with the band

And with them dashes ur probably running too fast.

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

They grow up in cycles of poverty and violence,

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

Her body's been paranormal since buying that pair of titties, look