This is a song about "Moneyes and weed"

The jager in my cup is licorice black

Smoking weed and listening to rap

Stuck in positions. if victims can't stand the heat

Dougie fresh up in the hood and he's bringing me my weed

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Still i ve the money and there's nothing better than some weed..

That hands you weed and alcohol

Baby, you know who you are

Niggas clocking dollars don’t know how to read with mouths to feed

All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed

I know just what you need nigga that know when to leave

You rap about selling weed and money schemes

Of the coke and the smoke of weed

The revolution will proceed