This is a song about "How much sam sucks"

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

How i ever got in so much pummelin',

And i'm somali so i guess i'm just tryna eat bread

I've been misled, yet, no matter how much death, dread or regret,

Niggas talk with limited service

Cant stress on how much i love this stuff.

How much i stabbed and press.

And i'mma keep ya fresh

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly

Say how much i hate everyone, and then you'll know its me?

You other rappers think its about how much paper u stash

But girl you’re special like i met you in the slow class

Pop-pop, hit a mini mug

How much wood could a wood chuck chuck