This is a song about "Money skateboarding guns women prison tough ghetto"

Because he made his decision

With plenty of money and women

And last but not least please don't tell no one

Ross and folarin, couple women

Me and my microphone could be one

Caught up inside this mental prison

You can't evade my guns,

3m's on my new balance

I feel my work ain't enough

Tearing this beat up, tough tough,

Top ranked, number one my son

Looking at these women

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

Ghetto politics, get money, spend it on the leathers all,

Smack 'em out the park, delete their number, that's my last call