This is a song about "Money makin"

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Talk about race and class instead of profit makin',

This is all my flow

For makin the game slow,

Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key

I wanna grow up rappin, makin bundles of money

They're makin the game's rep less

And i'm a just take another guess

And thats makin me sick

Got a sign on my dick

You killed the nigga, i stole a bible, is that a sin

Talk about race and class instead of profit makin',

Feeling lucky let me touch your spot

Makin em drop/, making em pop,/

Makin tacos, fuckin hot hoes,

Love reefer and love sneaker above those