This is a song about "Racking money"

In other words i'm getting money

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

God mc oh my god you gotta see

Rain, sleet, snow, 'bout the money

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

Boy im out here chasing money

Music is money, money isn't music

In that 09' range while i'm singing old tre shit

I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see

Racking up each syllable my raps are invincible-my streak will be obviously

But five years from now i bet she see

That's why i'm after this money

Fuck her friendthen i pass her to the big homiegot a sign on my dick

Racking these bars i'm going so hard rebuilding myself again brick by brick.