This is a song about "Hanging dogs from trees"

Mr. pacquiao, i'm packing

And my nuts stay hanging

Used to clean my rolie chain with alcohol in the sink

Tongues hanging out like dogs in the middle of august

But in the meantime it's lights please

Sprouted all these money trees

Blue dixon running shoes hanging from laces,hearts pounding faster when

Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them

And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

So im spittin over beats and smoking trees

Yo i got, guns from italy, smoke trees, considerably

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money

Low hanging fruit that was me

So while the world goes drake crazy

If we was giving daps to everybody left you hanging

From los angee area anytime i'm fucking landing