This is a song about "12 pound smoothies"

If it's wet enough i might just need a wine glass

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

Could head home, i got pussy to pound

Aim, shoot, the gun of love, round

30 chains on, bet the light work

That hit heights like junkies who pound herb.

They put my name on fuckin platinum, gold is pound for pound.

This my album, and when your parents try to come around

But im not fucking around, im giving the beat a pound

I go dough let around, my ho slow head around

Us two we smoke a pound

Now that's six cops found on that ground

Persistent cause he scrounged a distance for a pound of sniff

He fathers her only kid that's why my homies let him live