This is a song about "Crops"

Got the crops growing beautifully,

And losin all his money

Make meets ends picking crops for a penny here and then

And i'm man-genie, flyer than the rest of them

Nigga, i'm a bastard, i fuck with chord keys

It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,

We all commit sin, counterfeit stash and cash crops

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,

Put you in jimmy choo and you ain't even chinese

Niggas is working forever my bars

Like farmville without the crops

Welcome to hell's plot, the spot rots, like stale crops

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Minimize the population with verses that crops it to a few bit

It's hard to live out atlanta with out makin' this a habit