This is a song about "Getting jobs"

I own multiple chains, outsource jobs, and ship 'em overseas,

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

Days consist of getting payed/ getting bred with my team

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

You sell yourself for better jobs

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

These jobs you work around the clock, they make you go insane,

I am not tina, buddy, do not give my window pain

Nah i don't stunt on niggas, i show'em how to do this shit

But i got these shitty jobs, and look at me, i’m educated,

You're better off getting sued or getting nude

Bad bitches waving at me, real niggas salute

But it was written in cursive for this king to exist

Puttin all those cali and new york jobs on my wishlist,

Burst out like pop.the only page you'll end up is looking up jobs on the last

Cause life's a tasktrying to earn some cash without that burning mass and still i ask