This is a song about "Cabbage"

Prognosis not good, mam, your son is a cabbage

Pessimistic we are, carry odds like luggage

And smoke wannabe emcess like a bag of cabbage

I can't see your album coming, that shit's like a sucker punch

Shut the fuck up little cabbage-patch activists, class slackers,

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

They vaguely decipher my language

Than the average but you won't have a cabbage

Shut the fuck up little cabbage-patch activists, class slackers,

It's utterly bologna, so i'm muslim to these rappers

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love

That mean i never trust em. and if you ever love them

I get creepy as cabbage patches latched and attached to men,