This is a song about "Blut blowin"

If sam rosen never rolled and malcom never spoke

Gat under my sheep coat, i'm blowin' clouds of weed smoke,

Im blowin money first boy just like i do when i leave,

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good

I'm blowin' up like you thought i would

I get my inspiration when im buzzed and blowin trees

Your bitch likely tricking off and bruising up her knees

Do this shit blowin up like a nuclear war plant

I understand, i'm back by popular demand

Stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him

But now back in that opium den straight blowin'

I been blowin ghanja my mouth dry i need some drank

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last