This is a song about "Codeine kush money guns sour souls"

A nigga ghost every time youngin on the flow

I took my rap money and i went and brought some guns tho

So i told her i got something you've been waiting for

They used to hate wit faces like the grapes they ate was sour

Many kush flavors, og kush and sour diesel,

We don't believe you, you need more people

Glued to my taste buds, i can feel em, they sour

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Without the sound of guns

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

But i dont carry guns

Pussy motherfuckers leanin' like codeine fiends, he's mean,

As the chain swinglettin' shine, no sheenjust my dream