This is a song about "Grass"

That makes threemy laywers getting cash up the ass

To the point that you ran out of hope, you were a high grass

Im sick of cuttin grass so im chuggin gas

But money never lasts, in fact it's only last

Ff-fuck outta here, thats how they gettin gas

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

People wonder why grass is green,

Bitches pursue me like a dream

We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last

Going through my overcraft, ride around the over grass

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

Says the motherboard's overgrowing with crab grass

Till its grass i'm underneath

You make a nigga sing songs nice

But first imma smoke more of this fine grass

But i let off everything i have