This is a song about "Guns drugs and money"

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

And god blessed me with a lot of patience

Not caring for lives, only profit and guns

Drivin' my impala and selling drugs

I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs

No money, power, or drugs,

Good kids make bad grown ups

Real enough to admit i listen to people's opinions

Fuck rappin' about smokin' drugs, they hurtin' your lungs, tons, of guns.

Me and my niggas swarm on you like the killer bees

Sell drugs, shoot guns, make you yell "oh!", now you pushin up daisies

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt

Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks