This is a song about "Making tons of money"

And eat about four bowls of some frozen ice cream

I'm the most lean mean money making machine

Making money was the ideal

But it's clouds over here

Say you make "tons" of doe 50 or so hell no

And all this snow, i call it infant sorrow

Welcome back to class, bitch, grab on to your glasses

I'll have you making dozens of faces.

Make the front popand hit the three wheel motion

And start making all kinds of commotion

And young money,and everyone else making yall dummies

Your bitch likely tricking off and bruising up her knees

Hustle for money and making livings

Needed coke, needed dope, yea, i gave her a fix

They alll ran out of money.

I reel them in, goadomes on see