This is a song about "40 s and chronic"

Uhh, can it be fatethat makes a sick muthafucka break

24's on that escalade and ya' chick in the back, gettin' laid,

Me and homies sat back, relaxed blazin' chronic,

I am legend, a snicker dick in a vanilly chick

I'mma treat you like my whip

The insomnia that's chronic

Nigga had the fucking nerve to call me immature

And 808's and synths, riffs, and guitars, hard, for sure

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

40's on the 20's with the stove top, i'm steady plannin',

Welcome to the dirty south,we don't have 40's it's a 30 ounce

To read for seven pounds, you must release several pounds

Aroma all around me chronic

She's cute but her forehead's big

Liquor stores with the 40's, young niggas bite metal, shit,

And tell them bitches we real niggas is bout that