This is a song about "Pockets"

Group of white boys came out, their pockets rich in cash

I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last

Control our mental states, settle down and set it straight

And sanctified, niggas got they pockets fat, overweight,

Empty you, not pockets, ima take my glock and cock it

I stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet

Incoming callplus this my homie from high school

Churches searching for the pockets of the poor

She dealing with killa so you love her taste

My pockets looking full and my wallet cant be tamed

Cause when in danger those niggas changepuff weed

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

Deliver the bomb shit from the east to west

Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent