This is a song about "Crops"

We all commit sin, counterfeit stash and cash crops

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

Like farmville without the crops

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

Coconuts ciroc where puff at, never fall in love, don't cuff that

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

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

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

So i can start this freestyle, got more rhymes than there's crops

It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

Make meets ends picking crops for a penny here and then

But everybody is a g with the weed in them

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

It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,