This is a song about "My bad talkin shit"

I'm gettin money til my pockets need a tummy tuck

I'm dissin every bitch who's talkin shit when their styles suck

Niggas talk with limited service

Fake punk, talkin all that shit, you ain't rough

If you talkin' dolla billaz then money is in my grammar

To you niggas biting my flows and my subject matter

When big lips is in the attic armed with an addict's arm

You think i'll get all soft just cause you're talkin shit to my mom

All this talkin and chatter that's in my mind often

That mean i never trust em. and if you ever love them

The green backs in my pockets be talkin

Um, life is a water park, could be fun

And i ain't talkin clumsy, lsd on that shit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

Drinkin' 40's, whippin' shit, and talkin' shit, their overtones,