This is a song about "Pope and bitches"

So high i’m on the ceiling baby

Of bad bitches and good tree

I run scandals with savages

And if you looka all the bitches...

So i catch him stretchin', have him guessin' where his cracker throat

From osama, obama and the vatican pope

They all require more attention than a pope,

Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job

And yea i should’ve seen the signs by my first quote

Imma bless this crap, all my shit pope

And when the day end im chilling with three bad bitches

Like a condom that's scuffed up, i'm the wrong one to fuck with

A life where we don't need no welfare

All these bitches stop and stare

And have the vatican blastin "bitches and dope"/

That i'd, never ever ever go broke