This is a song about "Kids and money"

Clothes are dusted and he loathes these kids

So here i am at the store for some chips

So kids say fuck school don't follow the rules they'll al be asking for your money

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Bitch i'll sift your shit and swiftly switch, i'm torturing little kids,

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

Instead of putting money towards the schools for todays band of kids

I ain't hiding, y'all ain't riding

Ill shoot clown and leave little kids crying

We talkin' b blockers keep us with deep pockets

Why you sore huh? you go and just diss a dozen kids

Sneak is loose and kids taste so nice

Matter fact i dreamed that i lived twice

Whoever want it, they better note that i’m so focused

I got money mind and money on my wrist