This is a song about "Drugs money cars london albanians"

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

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

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

Yeah, that my sista and i'm so proud how she hold it down

Representing grimsby mother fuckers not the london town

Just a place that they can come

And become as big as london

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine

The cloth from which we came me and them is not the same

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

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see

And i'm all out of money cause i bought drugs for some party,