This is a song about "Rich kings"

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

Kings are clashing and storm storms are slashing

Nothins stopping me from being rich

Where the lips of your teen daughter sits, bitch

Crooklyn find me up in kings plaza

Santana, zeke the kufi poppa

He’ll be making people rich,

You wonda why they call u bitch

Hold it..now thank you for silence

I'm out here tryna live life like kings

Now i’m up in this bitch

Thats it we getting rich

The white boy sees this as a clearance, now its

Rap satanist thinking that they are kings,