This is a song about "Lloyad banks"

I put a condom on my heart, i don't be feeling shit

Decides everything, the wall street banks, no they're loving it,

Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

Dope enough to snort crack and sit the fuck still

Im out here trying to fill up banks like uncle phil

You heard banks was crackin skulls

Or closed casket for our troubles

I get more from banks than aunt vivian

If a nigga didn't fake like them

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

Of impactful things one can ask for

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

Wouldn't it be nice if the banks didn't fuck up the loans

Banks fail and get billion-dollar bail-outs, it's sad to call it,

Come take a stab at it faggot, i pre-ordered your casket