This is a song about "Tax"

They don't care bout the economy as long as they benefit from the tax collection!

She showed me affection like a drug dealer using her pocket for my protection

Spit on em and say "fuck that wicked tax"

He watched house party, and ate apple jacks

This nigga, look at this fuckin' nigga lips, dog

And ask to see his tax records, they'll make you bound to walk,

Fuck the tax rates! they've challenged my patience!

Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years

So i get higher than my tax rates

Roll you up and let it run through my veins

We the moody, gucci, louis and pucci men

They don't vote, then i change the tax laws, like "fuck it then",

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

And they're robbing our money for tax

Red berry everywhere, got puff getting jealous

"what are these wealthy tax breaks that you all are asking of?"