This is a song about "Cuban missile crisis and fat hoones"

Until the buzz go away lets have a little fun

Shut yo big fat crusty ignorant lips up and listen

Trying to get back to this thing called love

In a rise from my crisis

Pick his fat ass up, and drag that fag into the kitchen

Where people run on the scene and people don't see your vision

A wise nigga told me don’t chase that cash

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

You own and hide it under ya fat stomach

Fuck a mask, i want that ho to know it's me, ugh

On top of that, i’m broke

Big and fat, as my big fat oak

That happen to act like a black president

We can all chill and smoke on a fat blunt