This is a song about "Money and boobs"

Middle finger up, give a fuck how they feel

Like money, cash, and shit all was real

You rap about selling weed and money schemes

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

Where they cherish gangsters and not teachers

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers

My rap isn't fast but i have been the coldest

I got money mind and money on my wrist

Turn money into diamonds and gold

And copy what's hot until that goes cold

And when theres booze their is boobs

I go to war, old timbs, battered boots

Got my fame, the reputation, and the money.

I think you need the streets to succeed the industry

I spit that garden of game, look at the hoes on him

For the money and power they've been concealin'