This is a song about "Weed money sex"

Leave the keys with that bitch, jets

You would bet on malcolm sex

Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain

I’m from hoover man, high as superman, shit you lois lane

I’m a bad boy, bitch, ask puff, sip ciroc its my last cup

Nigga i dont spend my money on weed i keep my bands up

It wasn't about the sex

Sweet, okay makes sense

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely

I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money

And methodists got money, baptists suck, roll the weed,

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Cruel shit like pussy money weed talking bout that's what you

And i ain’t gotta say i’m fly, this g5 with the crew

Aimin' at his partner who know he up next

I stay awake , dreaming for sex