This is a song about "Money hoes bitches"

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

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

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

Got one good tip: bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

I hate bitches snitches stab them with syringes throw em in ditches and holes fuck hoes/

I get more respect from the motherfuckin' dope manthe grammy's and american music shows

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

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

Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine

Cheated on light skin dominique when we was seventeen

When slick rick was spittin la-di-da-digaming the hoochies at the neighborhood block parties, i remember

They are inspirational and i wish i could get into music/ most bitches and hoes that enter/

So she went across the street, gave him a kiss

1 for the money, 2 for the bitches