This is a song about "Dodgin 12"

No blunts, lil' bro wan' roll up joints

You don't mess with 12, my boys

My pocket's fat, somebody check my blood pressure

Material, hypocritical dissenter

They is terrycloth with it, i'm italian leather

I pull out my 12. gauge i'm the prime bearer

12 and 16, were 3/4 of the way through.

I bet that mirror gon show you

My nigga made it, we just young, living the dream

And i can smell 12 from a block away, leave the scene

I'm with your girlfriend eating chips

Rolex on my wrist cost me 12 chickens

At least after your bid, ain't no student loans

Dodgin ratchet hoes, like im dodgin these cones