This is a song about "Punks"

I dont fuck around with no lame punks,just go ahead and say my name once,

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see

Now this fake little punks are trying to come at me

Signing off brother ali, sincerely yours

Before anything though, they're called bitches, punks and whores/

Have u pussies bleedin heavily for like 3 months weak punks

My money quite loquacious, so commas riddle my statements

Like keep grinding boy, your life can change in one year

These punks would bully me 'cuz of clothes from goodwill,

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Get off of my feet, and then i got these punks from my old street

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

Now this fake little punks are trying to come at me

500 at the villa ain't no problem

Fucking checkin punks want to become a dumb