This is a song about "Throwing money in their air"

My coach ain't care, so i ain't care

Got our middle fingers in the air,

Not throwing myself away and turn astray for money now ain't that funny,

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Throwing rhymes and sewing lines like seamstresses, pop folks in domes,

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

Keep that tucked ‘fore somebody get hurt

Put your hands in the air, bank clerk... work!!!

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

The way they hit her i just stop and stare

Im in it for the money

We're living in a fantasy

My niggas in their crews, they gettin' money, shottie blasts,

They got me goin mad, i'm knockin busters on they backs

True to the gamei claim outlaw riderswe give a fuck what they try

So imma throw money in the air, like im tryin to pay the sky