This is a song about "Trap shit money maken"

Money, pussy, power, respect that's the shit that i want

But more than not, and with prolly a whole lot less than the start

What stares back? fuck backpack rap, fuck trap,

St. louis, detroit, chi-town, nap

Iphone and ipad, air max, and my gat

Distract ya, fully automatic acid trap,

Now you also talk shit about money

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

I got me funny money, cartoons and shit

I put the nigga in his casket

Comming straight outta the trap

You ain't gon find that

Believe me, money ain't shit it don't matter

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

Pay homage to a god, bitch fall on your knees

Through fiends and thieves dreams of shit grown on money trees,