This is a song about "Trappin and gettin money"

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

Cause his girl was always goin' out and gettin' high

I don't care about your drive unless you talkin' ridin' dick

Horder straight trappin', hustle and grind, hustle and grind, my flow is sick

Your niggas don’t ask how the top feel

And we gettin' money, over here,

Gettin' high as cheech and chong

I know my daddy gone

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

This aint drug money, baby it's thug money and love money,

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

Bitches love money and i got a lot of money

Gettin higher and higher, there ain't no roof.

Always keep it up to date, that's why the hoes choose