This is a song about "Lizzie and rachel"

, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,

Feel like the only rapper that look at you with no trouble

And like to boast and brag

This is why her nigga mad

And nasty remains and bones

Fake niggas get dial tones

And a fridge and some broccoli

And now that i’m getting money

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

A criminal grind mean hustle

And inhospitable,

Even when y'all deep, y'all still all sweet

And kill yourself and your clique

And their mothers and fathers

It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse