This is a song about "My checks"

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

And we way too young to know love, maybe not but we don't need no rush

Im just tryin to get them them checks with at least a couple commas

But real freaky in tha darkplus i got some enemies, baby

Forgetting numbers on my checks but the bank just lets me

My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure

My nigga banks just be ready for whatever

Not mine, i'm with wale, i'm just a tourist on the set

I hear them talk, and run back to my room, my dad checks up on my bed//

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds

Last time i checked a brown was getting the fattest checks

Of the picture punchline figured out, ahh i get you

Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------

Poor white people seen as trailer trash collecting fed checks,

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense