This is a song about "Strange crystal music money tank gang"

Strange fruit grew from wicked roots, you'd fiend for money trees

She don't suck nothing, buzzen, but she lick it nice

Cause in this tank, it's me and my bros rhyming for fun

Where people run on the scene and people don't see your vision

Music is done without love but is done for the money

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free

Of a wolf gang gang bang

I gotta question for you man

She ain't got a man

Fitting ya without ma gang

The only reason that i put up with this moody ass bitch

You think you're hip, you got that tank at abercrombie & fitch

Music is my money, and i'll never stop until my system stops running

With feelingsthis a mans world youngin'the bitches in businessso learn a 'lil something

They must come with a bible, swine flu, and a pistol

Your voice sounds like you’re always on the crack and crystal,