This is a song about "Cook it up weed"

Goin' ham in beef it's raw, i cook it up with twisted news,

I make my old bitch buy me all the latest shoes

Forreal, i got a pole in the basement

Crushin up untill weed it is fine dust (fine dust)

Searching for answers, that's human nature, you ain't in the wrong

This the weed song light it up when its on. smoke that shit til your mind is gone.

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

See the feds and tap out that's wrestler shit

Aye, hold your head homie, look

She even said she can cook!

But fuck it, we love to smoke weed.

Cause i got a big fetish with the feet

I need me an engine that go real fast, call it hall/haul of fame once it haul ass

"you are my slave now, cook me up a fucking meal." (hahaha) *evil laugh*

Picked up smoking weed ever since bad trips,

So here i am at the store for some chips