This is a song about "Rich snob"

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

An alias to suit the suit top he rocked from this crude snob he robbed

I spitting bars the metronome the money machine

You're a rap snob that lacks facts of cats thoughts in the scene

Can't stop paper chasin' dreamin' i am mad rich

Hop back in the van and then depart the bitch

But deep down, i don't really like you bitch

Underhand shit dread of force you bought rich

3 cell phones and still i won't call a bitch

And my niggas don't need me they already rich

We don't need y'all, the fader's who we really fucking with, bitch

Or fuck my enemies bitch, acting bad and getting rich

And i'm wolf, that was me who shoved the cock in your bitch

See im about riding for my niggas and tryna get rich

Young money young money yeah we getting rich

But i'mma cut through the line to get outta this bitch