This is a song about "Making stacks"

Where the black girls get their weaves back

No cash in big stacks, no guns that click clack

I'm sick of ya wack crap, talking shit but the fat stacks

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything

Stacks on deck, bitch we stackin money to the ceiling

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

My racks was really stacks of novels and rap posters

Cash stacks, yep that's what i'm all about

Niggas rollin' deep, burners pulled out

Im getting stacks of money everyday.

Tell me how can we live this way

Than diggin' in your couch, looking for your car keys

I can't believe it, you're out here making stacks of cheese

Yelling "yo look at my money, i got stacks in the bank!"

Life is your only friend, one day you'll understand