This is a song about "Hoes and gold"

And i got them gold bottles, first place

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

So tell me why are we at war

Gold chains, watches and more,

Took me a while just to write those

Im killing niggahz and they hoes

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

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

I'll beat your ass into a fetal stance

Rocking black and gold stocking caps

All this paper i fold

But like the diamonds and gold

That portray women as objects, as hoes and gold diggers,

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

I be staying at the roosevelt more than marilyn goes

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