This is a song about "Money bitches hoes weaves leather jackets"

Sacrivicing your money for food on hoes you'll end up hungry and broke.

You know i’m stickin' to that proper code: strapped up, lock n load

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

Okay you have em in amazement; switching four lanes

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

And y'all talk constantly, about all of your bitches and hoes,

Heneesee, makes me think my enemy is getting close

Bitches dissappoint you but money won’t ever stress you

Might be leaving with me before the night is through

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

I could talk about diamonds and all my bitches and hoes,

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

Every single one of these bitches are standard hoes,