This is a song about "Dope money cars guns bitches"

My bitches like to cut the dope, and bag it for a dime and at the same time

My dawgs got rabies, they bitin each otherand it ain't hard to find a friend like mine

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

Tell me who's as rad as us and the answer was

Locked down in tha penitentiaryfinally lose my mind

But his swag so dope he fuck them bitches from behind

Look dog, don't be asking for dame, see

Not bad using that dope money

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Different positions, but she still moaning the same

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

With reality defeating n leaving scars guns shot from cars

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops