This is a song about "Money drugs weed"

Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs

Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks

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

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

And methodists got money, baptists suck, roll the weed,

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

Sell a dub mix some drugs

In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux

Drivin' my impala and selling drugs

Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)

Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round