This is a song about "Forty"

And i don’t know why you fuck niggas can’t see

Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

Forty mental slugs for these corny gental thugs

Latin assassin bustin off like a forty-four fuckin magnum

Fuck-nigga-ass hypebeast niggas, now back to the album

Forty-five on the side me (boom boom)

Just regret the fact that i left too soon

My bitch likes to cut the dope and bag it for a fee

Could be so thorny, make me want to drink a forty

Drinking a forty ounce beer

Ain't that your worst fear

And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody

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