This is a song about "Got to feed the machine"

Y’all feed it to the preacher’s mouth and call it christianity

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

Your going against the mean killing machine

Ridin' in that es with my nefertiti queen

Hostile with them hoes, i got a dollar in my pocket plus a dream

Mind's eye spinning, desperately trying to hit the jackpot slot machine

Machine the way i'm skilled

If i lost you be patient

Long as i can feel my heart tap like happy feet

Baby mammas on the corner—little mouths to feed

I got a dolla and a dream, real niggas on my team

Slid across the floor and flew right into a washing machine

I get paper like i a mail box, seen

C.r.e.a.m over niggas! get the dollar machine!