This is a song about "Grams and kilograms"

And a fridge and some broccoli

That's why i'm makin' money

Grab the scissors and saws and

Fuck you if you feelin' different

Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,

See her man face-to-face through the glass

Harder than my dick when taylor swift is in my basement

Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,

Ain't need no grams to enjoy my life

Living in a gangsta’s paradise

I bring the tension in bricks, your raised it up a couple grams,

Niggas talkin' greasy, i'm the one that gave them they chance

Look like james vanderbeek on eight grams of tweak,

Will i, succeed, paranoid from the weed

I like to ask the bad bitches if they ass is real

I roll with real gangs stole 'n steal grams make a bitch squeal