This is a song about "High grade hash"

To abbreviate, a grade "a" on that worksheet

Baby father bullshittin', you two don't even speak

They napped and slept on me, man, i hate black

Smoking hash thats where the stacks at

Yo i could set back, sell out, get rich, and light the hash,

But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas

I don't care about your grade,

She self made, i'm self made

Or like monumental mixtape of the moment

High as fuck high as ducks lit the hash and passed a blunt

Smell the fumes from the rasta's in a room full of hash

With the dickerson mask would be getting in the ass

On the day a hater treat a nigga like he fake

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

We love for a while then a light goes

Since third grade i been packin bowls