This is a song about "Spending cash in 1950"

I'm with your girlfriend eating chips

Spending all my money on lids

They're spending time on the vines n' the other hypes in culture

So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her

I'm putting cash in my pockets, so much to tour the world in a rocket,

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

I'm a victim of the money, of the cash in the hundreds,

Two bitches named tiffany i left them with a pair of kids

And to be honest i fathered a lot of brothers in this motherfucker

You could see in the faces of me, michael, my dad, anyone... my brother.

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth

I remember i had no cash, had ta steal that shit up in public bathrooms.

And i grew up poor with no cash flow in the country, you ain't even know it,

I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket