This is a song about "Pockets"

Back down, backing ultra dreams like some bad sleep

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

I got money dripping from my pockets.

I be giving work to the kids

Coconuts ciroc where puff at, never fall in love, don't cuff that

No narcotics in my pockets, only got 1 jackson in my wallet

Illicit funds in my pockets for that greenery

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

Churches searching for the pockets of the poor

I don't need a bunch of jewels to show you i'm cool

So much money in my pockets, i might need a saddle

To make karma come faster than she normally will

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

It got to be a lot of shit in your ass

The dilemma is, you think i got no conscience

Some old motherfucking nurses checking up my pockets