This is a song about "Financial problems"

Boss broke, spouse choke, blouse open

Lotta problems and a bitch is one,

And even though we seperated, you said that you'd wait

I'll cut you with my wiper blade, you better have financial aid,

That's nothing nice, living trapped up inside this financial bubble,

To all the sisters with ambition, i see your hustle

Lately been writing poems

Using my mind, to solve these problems

Hoping you well, i know it's hell

With no problems to tell

Fast forward spillin' drinks on her fur

Hang your problems on a hanger

So much pressure on the poor with financial problems aint that pleasant

If this was a game, i would be considered a mothafuckin' legend

But if i force it there will be fuckin problems

That scary love, never get married love