This is a song about "Stock and exchange"

Fuck these gomers, our country's run by stock brokers.

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

You can bet your bottom dollar the bottom lips will need stitches

When i came to the exchange i picked it up i said yup lets do this

Okay, bad grades, good grades, it's 8th grade, lil boys out here tryna get laid, but all

Drops there jaw in aw!like a stock marketer watching the stock market fall

And inhospitable,

Shout out them strippers who hustle

Shitting his stock of cash out his ass

1st class hermes, panamera, purp pass

But girl you’re special like i met you in the slow class

Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,

Fuck a gun wheres my bow? flaming arrow in stock, aiming at your throat ready to let it go

Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto

They wanna see a nigga lose but i’m destined to win

Or stock dealin' there's no excuse for the preenin'