This is a song about "Stacks of cash"

I have fat stacks of 200k in my backpack.

Pump, fake, jumpshot, ball hit the back

The people that you mug, you know they're fresh out of cash,

I will fucking beat your ass, box logos through the glass

They make their livin off crazed addictions with stacks of cash it's too much to count, shit

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

Shitting his stock of cash out his ass

And i got that drive and she just might crash

I was gonna write you a poem today

Im getting stacks of money everyday.

When i run out of stacks i go and get some more

Reincarnated bitch even worse than before

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

And manifest as stacks of fresh similes sick with these like a bad cough

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Pockets so fat of money there creaming cash rules evrything around me