This is a song about "Drugs guns bitches sex cars bra"

Kicks new, my denim, raw

I'm freakin the hoes bra

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

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

Sell drugs, shoot guns, make you yell "oh!", now you pushin up daisies

Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys

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

I'm love stoned from everywhere and she knows

Got my carry-on but really wish i had a pound with me though

I know that cars and gold bars can bring in bitches and dough,

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Wear bikini bottoms, no bra, and tube socks

I got snider bitches that whiter than the drugs they sniff

And a finger in the middle that i leave em with

Without the sound of guns

These chalance give me balance