This is a song about "Making money till the day we dead"

Countin money all day and we smoke dat bomb haze,

Love the game know this is coming from a different place

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

I runaway with lights flying, waiting till day the nights dying

Instead they lock me in the cell just for sellin dope

The day bill gates go broke is the day we broke

All my love to these queens in here

Making money was the ideal

Countin money all day and we smoke dat bomb haze,

So they just keep going, saying nigga in his face

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

I'm the most lean mean money making machine

But yet till this day the story you tell differs,

With business hoes an college strippers

I hit your block and we can box for fun

I'm not gonna rest till the day i find the one