This is a song about "Guns money weed bitches cars"

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

You gotta know the motto get money then bitches

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money

She say that she celibate, i penetrate her mentally

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

I know that cars and gold bars can bring in bitches and dough,