This is a song about "Around cryin"

I'm at the funeral cryin' heavily,

Heavy weed smoker, get ounces for free

The middle class suburban kids are cryin', and slittin' wrists,

I'm throwing them rocks back, with the fury of bullets

I just spit my game out

I gotta stop messin around

It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse

What goes around comes around mother fuckers

This guy ain't nothing, i list it, bout to send you home cryin and

I'm a gentlemen women tell me my wisdom is different

Everyone around laughed

Just lay back, get your face slapped

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

And don't come cryin to me, when all your so-called friends "leave"