This is a song about "The bags full of money hidden in the floor"

All them other boys targets and i'm flawless with the aim

Your only chance to change is the hidden path of pain.

Controling my steamknowing my team to deserve more

*boom boom* the cops bust in, he's dead on the floor,

Bust rounds in they chest till they fall to the floor

But a small girl had been shotmy heart could take no more

Keep me a bitch with some sexy thighs

The mirror, bags under my eyes,

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

I'm a victim of the money, of the cash in the hundreds,

The disease of the wordsmith hidden inside of the mist

Suck her neck before i eat her like she's breakfast

A whole new creation of hidden lies up in the area 51 station

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

My written's imprinted in the hidden book of the dead

Hungry like the nigga who ain't got the taste of fame yet