This is a song about "Guns and money wrapped up in stacks"

Money come and money go still money problems addin up

So when i rape a bitch i hold her down and get my best nut

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

We grew up in poverty, y'all wonder why we talk money,

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king

Stacks on deck, bitch we stackin money to the ceiling

I remember a nigga demo just sit in a room

This rap will leave you wrapped like a mummy in a tomb

Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack

Wrapped in plastic wraps, bleaches stacked, tools used to extract,

Cashing up the stacks, i'm rich, but got a lack of facts and shit,

That's why i traded r. kelly my sister for a new hit

And the middle of guns and in the middle of lies so

Heartbroken obviously, there's not tomorrow

Yelling "yo look at my money, i got stacks in the bank!"

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