This is a song about "Grass cutting"

The ones who spent their days cutting

I was born to do the damn thing

Going through my overcraft, ride around the over grass

I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last

Lord lord forgive us, personality clash

Just like a little snake creeping in the grass

Not only with my hand, but with a black revolver

When i'm cutting up the pieces of the skin like a barber,

And this will be the song that we sing

Wrists are for bracelets not cutting

Stay rolling up that potent grass

Baby got that super bass

But first imma smoke more of this fine grass

Except she's got a little more ass

Cutting the bull like me and the blade double teaming the ox

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks