This is a song about "Infinite on high"

I don't shop in the public, ain't finna wait in line

Sippin on that high class bottle of that fine red wine

Has infinite symmetry

Took my heart away from money

And use it all to get high on the medical herbs

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

So they hurtin but what's for certain you can get you some heat

Oh god honey i think he's high on that marijuana weed

Get high on the white lady

So gon' and be my dealer baby

But on some real shit, fuck getting high

You just need to take me, i know you can fly

And normally, i'd try to end this fucked shit on a high.

K o d, m i a, twenty racks, let it fly