This is a song about "Lose of money"

Made some moves, now i'm known to spit december in june

You where destined to lose on your way out of your mothers womb

Im getting stacks of money everyday.

Mary jane keeps me high like every day

Hair weave killer had on louie's in my mug shot

Lose track of time when i rhyme like i misplaced the clock

For multiple years, witness peers catch gunshots

With terms of release, bitches, money and yachts

Ride presidential got me feeling like obama

With oodles of noodles of money paper on my pasta,

See with a district columbia vision

With plenty of money and women

They alll ran out of money.

Blow up on this society

You wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside tha shoes

And i will lose cuz your a bunch of ignorant fools.