This is a song about "Money and boobs"

Mariah tunes and five flutes

You aint strapped like saggy boobs

Like money, cash, and shit all was real

Cee said, oaknair finna be here

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers

I lack jungle fever, had to black for the sneakers

Turn money into diamonds and gold

After every show, a dream she hold

And cash money supermarket like seth,

And i'm a just take another guess

And they're robbing our money for tax

Go to hell, i mean that, burn you like green backs

And when theres booze their is boobs

And my weed man should just sell flutes

She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since

Hustle for money and making livings