This is a song about "Hoes and bitches"

Standing flat footed, i’m on my toes

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

I'll take control and break the mold, and even though fakest hoes,

Heneesee, makes me think my enemy is getting close

Thirsty hoes, and its a drought

And i don’t take no dames out

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

You claim to have all these hoes but yuh ain't got no bitches.

That's food for thought you muthafuckas can do the dishes

Bitches and hoes, yo, get smothered underneath the snow,

Two of her friends strip she never judge them though

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

Every single one of these bitches are standard hoes,