This is a song about "Joe adams"

You know your son a asshole, but i hope you got those stacks though

Bored, so i'm packin' bowls / faster than the hands of an average joe

I'm rockin' average joe shmoe's regular clothes

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

Give me a sign, tell me how you wanna roll

But i could call you glass joe, asshole!

Complexion from heaven don't be bleaching your shit

Cause every song you make, joe, is really ho music

Hit you so hard leave you leaning like fat joe

Jim chose to give his work to smash in dough

Ill tie yo little ass to the pool table and shoot the cube ball to yo adams apple

That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle

But i’m worth it though work this shit so perfect though

They love me cause they love an average joe

Tongue like a young jab throwing joe frazier

I chill now...cop a little ice later