This is a song about "Money and boobs"

And they're robbing our money for tax

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

To my gunfulfillin' my destiny

Got my fame, the reputation, and the money.

"money and blood don't mix

She likes the way it hits her lips

You rap about selling weed and money schemes

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

But still homey keep it real, how does it feel

Like money, cash, and shit all was real

I go to war, old timbs, battered boots

And when theres booze their is boobs

I was like damn girl nice boobs,

And still got my nike boots

When they try to teach us, we be in the bleachers

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers