This is a song about "Folks and hoes"

For all the killas and the 100 dollar hoes

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

'cuz i ain't from the ghetto, didn't grow up there, and that's real folks,

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

Middle finger missing so i can not give a fuck

I'm sick and tired of folks tellin' me to open it up,

Where would i be without my dogs

Fuck them hoes and the cops

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

I’ve seen these young folks sell their souls for fortune and fame,

Brings alotta joy buggati boy thats lane to lane

And imma make these hoes bleed

And 5-0 they work for us, walk the beat