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

On the lines of a wire right in the nice air

Another 5, eli won't even be there

Your a kid posing like willow in bel air,

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

Im in it for the money

You a lady boss, now you fly free

But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

In my mind throwing spears, and god knows,

Actually i like a broad that can bag hoes

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

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

Covering their arms with cuts and spending all their money at starbucks

I do self evaluate, yeah, i know i've got some problems