This is a song about "Milo"

I'm everything that they call nice

The strange fruit, crops growin', blowin' in the breeze,

My team running and we can't fall!

Alright, yeah, nigga, i was in the mall

Am sick of being stuck for grass

Right cash, pretty girls nice ass

So i can start this freestyle, got more rhymes than there's crops

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

And as for my drink i'd like milk or some milo

But first imma smoke more of this fine grass

Private plane tsa can kiss my ass

These rappers are edible

I'm on my pedestal

Stay smoking on the hay

Im im on tha way