This is a song about "Growing up making money my boy bpatt and duschene my fam"

Making shrines of my crimes and capers

Half my peers, they're stretched for years

I love you though i'll still fuck

Making bitches fall on my way up

Feel like i’m movin' backwards

Money got my fam going back words

About my son growing up without the best mom ever mentioned.

If i ain't get em yet, believe their name is on the short list

Hopin' that my niggas see

Take my bus and bust down money

Bolt up my door lock, been hearing money talks

I'm singin poems for supporters of my songs

Or cause i’m black, hmmm maybe

My friends and fam hear me,

And just because my fate that i hate making enemies

Still hear that laughin' under breath while the orlando police