This is a song about "Money and clothes"

In the clouds looking down, i ain't even in a rush

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Lying to the children when she know you ain't the dad

Mad, stealing clothes cause you broke, and you know that

But of course, i'm the white boy that shows no remorse

And smacked her so hard i knocked her clothes backwards like kris kross

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,

Face down, ass up, ain't none of my bitches planking though

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

But youre there and the fuzz shaking the drugs out your clothes