This is a song about "Forty"

Why can't we plain disqualify my percentages of forty nine,

And all that time with your friends put my momentum on decline

Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

Drinking a forty ounce beer

Man that's my worst fear

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

Forty mental slugs for these corny gental thugs

I think you need the streets to succeed the industry

I sip the forty ounces, and mix that shit like brass monkey,

Not with all of em, maybe forty

Heavy weed smoker, get ounces for free

Whole team in dem new drops; nigga you should go && go cop one

Latin assassin bustin off like a forty-four fuckin magnum

Its my prove of sharing the stamp, the forty two sedated

See me and hope i'm intoxicated or slightly faded