This is a song about "Streets fakes money life"

You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams

Streets became home to me/ like a mother to be/ the streets

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

Ive got no money and no honey life never sunny

I need money, a life and riches. trillions of dollars instead of em' bitches.

Just can't understand why we gettin respect nowmomma told me they're be days like this

I kept runnin through the streets

Regular girl, celebrity dreams

You think that we was learnin' from other rappers' mistakes

Ye we skate and ye we hate do what we do to dodge the fakes

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

It's burning slow, even though life on the streets kinda cold

Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the bible

To say life goes on, now they're counting money on the table