This is a song about "Fifty pence"

Pop, pop bottles on all these bitches

Fifty grand in my pants like ivy smith

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

On the corner, a old bitch dropped fifty bands

Fifty cents your favorite rapper man, no wonder you're fed up

Your toes and your thighs shakingi eat it upshe said i'm ready to fuck

Seven fifty six k. and that's the down speed yo

If you know like i know, you should lie low

And then along came the wrong man for her

Farenheit four fifty one i'm on fire

Niggas mostly assume, niggas make up they news

Split if fifty-fifty, get it, street struck, i'm spinnin' the truth,