This is a song about "Money white boy block glock"

Just a white boy, i know it sounds coy.

You got phat pockets like a fat boy

But i guess they aint never seen no white boy

Yo my mommy toy was my pride and joy

Kill you, shoot the funeral up and harlem shake at your wake

The white boy dissing you till the peel breaks of the snake

Vroom vroom, keep the motor running girl, you know it don't stop

Ill just get my money then clock the fags on my block

I leave this and hope god see my heart is pure

The poor southern white boy, he's like picasso for sure,

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

Like the lil nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze.

White boy rappin' not an impossibility

Pockets on heavy d, bitch i'm hot, third degree