This is a song about "Robben banks"

Decides everything, the wall street banks, no they're loving it,

You let him a sleaze you, but money tend to do that

But it made me the man i am today, thanks

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

The river of death has brimmed his banks

He in bootcamp, you on food stamps

Swear i'm trying to get through

Robben island imprisoned you

And it's you, can't even front i press ignore

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

We race foreign cars, custom models

You heard banks was crackin skulls

Im out here trying to fill up banks like uncle phil

Dope enough to snort crack and sit the fuck still