This is a song about "A saturday night drug trade"

Not a drug dealer, a pharmaceutical vendor

Hundred running they ain't finna slow down never

But you know what

Her love is like a drug

You claim you a thug crook a drug cook you ain't it

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

Most bitches, niggas call gone real or fake

I ain't religious, just for the drug trade

That saturday night when you kissed my heart

Like a small garage in your backyard

Real nigga, pardon whoever feel different

You can't even pull off a drug bust

I'mma need two mics just to get my point across

Of that trade off, my dicks a plane bout to take off

They gon keep on watching, give em something to see

I can see it clear as summer sun on a saturday