This is a song about "Money hood chains whips"

I put the nigga in his casket

Kicks, chips, whips, flicks, chicks will make the missiles hit,

Funny how my niggas are obsessed with money, whips, and chains,

But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains

Got me thinking you 2 chains

I know what it takes

Whips they cant afford to carry

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

My bitches fuck me good

I don't live in the hood

Everything at ease, you in double m g presence

Dragging heat on our trail we just bail from cops with black whips

Just cause you change what you pitching, don’t make the difference

All these rappers talking 'bout their diamonds and their whips,