This is a song about "West bank"

Yelling "yo look at my money, i got stacks in the bank!"

Always on the road again, with omega or the band

Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest

Aint no easy task cleaning up the wild west.

Trying to rob my lyrical bank,

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

Left hand staggerin' on her muthafuckin' breast

It's like a quest, hard as bullets from wild west

Need some money?break the bank

I’m coming back like light-skin and

Let's pretend he never dreamed how to break the bank,

Yeah talking boutbad bitch,good weed,purple drank

Lay low youll make bank roll

This shit has got my soul

Ain't have to see-saw, i'm already scared

Eastside, take em to the west