This is a song about "Grass"

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

On the phone. 10 years he got, chasin' that cash

Whose primary concern is just to hustle and to blaze the grass,

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class

Am sick of being stuck for grass

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

With the dickerson mask would be getting in the ass

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

A wise nigga told me don’t chase that cash

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

I can eradicate a village if you give me a beat, huh

Stay rolling up that potent grass

Fell asleep in first class