This is a song about "Grass"

That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

Naw but if there's grass in the field, then just like me,

Your life is a product of trash

Am sick of being stuck for grass

My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass

I'm not stupid or easy but i'm still green as the grass,

So while i hold this bottle of ciroc with a hand full of ass

Cuz if i get high of that trash im blastin brain cells and this ass is grass!!!

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last

Smoking so much grass, shit, police, time for me to dash.

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

Ass, grass n liquour, with fat cash amounts

Ya dead to me, brown grass nigga

I try to tell them i'm one of the

And laugh my ass off on this grass i'm packin' with stamina

I'm the king of the cityyoung money, young mullah