This is a song about "Robben banks"

Would be pleasant if the banks didn't fuck my loans

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

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

This is known as a classic, yeah that chapped lips crack shit

Or closed casket for our troubles

You heard banks was crackin skulls

But a small girl had been shotmy heart could take no more

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

Banks fail and get billion-dollar bail-outs, it's sad to call it,

Black foamposites, it's like we on that mobbing shit

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

But it made me the man i am today, thanks

Cause you must have known, i can't trust the phones

Wouldn't it be nice if the banks didn't fuck up the loans