This is a song about "Oyung money and hoes"

Fuck them hoes and the cops

Cause of death? bars

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

In front of our building, they was my heroes

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

And them hating ass niggas, we ain’t like those

And keep out of the way of the hoes.

Bitch i'm ballin' like i'm comin' off of free throws

Chillin back smoking weed writing raps and fucking hoes

And i'm still hurtin over pops

Fuck them hoes and the cops

Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote

Sacrivicing your money for food on hoes you'll end up hungry and broke.

Thirsty hoes, and its a drought

Mmg man, we smoked out