This is a song about "Copin pounds of herb"

Like taking off a sheer hundred pounds of nothing but weight,

Control our mental states, settle down and set it straight

That hit heights like junkies who pound herb.

You're so white, my blinkers don't work

Aim, shoot, the gun of love, round

140 pounds, 5'6 from the ground

As i light one for ill will

The herb calm his mental

And i'm as high as deion feet is headed to the house

The candle had weight, had to of been 3 pounds.

Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,

Must be something you want me to see

One more thing, i hope you understand your impact on our race

Nowadays, i claim to toke my daily dose of pounds of haze