This is a song about "Holla dollars"

Holla; cheech chong & folarin, only get high when my lows come often.

You must have won every pageant in america when you was young

Better yet they work my every nerve

A few hundred dollars and some reviewed proverbs

Then you're screwed like bottle caps, holla back and listen,

I like it cause she a ten, but she say i'm the one

When that money calls i holla back

The bummer is the fact that i'm black

Talking about the god you serve

For clockin dirty dollars

No conspiracy, my fate is inevitable

I'm just trying to make my dollars double//

If i holla them contras

On the slow jam of love