This is a song about "Rap about weed hoes and money flashy cars and bank"

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Chillin back smoking weed writing raps and fucking hoes

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Everything i wanted never seem so close

You act like you're so rich and flashy

Busta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee

Getting bank and that is literal

Yeah come holla at your uncle

Know what i do: manufacturing crack

Why yap about money, and all that

See i let my nigga split that

Smoking weed and listening to rap

They disregard me, i guess they all got egos

I could talk about diamonds and all my bitches and hoes,

And methodists got money, baptists suck, roll the weed,

I mean eddie murphy, swang, gettin' married