This is a song about "Dust"

And you would think that i’m european, my tribe different

Trophy's that stack up by my window pane, they're stained. gather dust,

Smokin' dust but thinkin' you're like loaded lux,

And meetin' mr. folarin could get you cardiac problems

Man im so high if i land ill make the pavement dust,

Go on, suck it up; but hurry, i got nuts to bust

Sorry i'm so demanding, sick of dancing back to mansion and

Some people take the pain away with liquor or smoking dust,

I’m trifling, damn right ignorant

I race to the line, blow past the dust

Think it's sweet, think he get money across the street

Ben's left in the dust wallowin in defeat

Crushin up untill weed it is fine dust (fine dust)

That happen to act like a black president