This is a song about "Moving pound of weed they call hydro"

They aren't even moving slow,

Scab, fix up look shop joe

They put my name on fuckin platinum, gold is pound for pound.

They stop the whole game everytime i come around

It kind of feels like middle school again when they call

To get a pair, niggas killed him right in front the mall

I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass

Yaknowhati'msayin? you need to be on first class

Luckily i'm a master of dispatchin', got a "send them to the pound" degree

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

Y'all all loafin goin through the motion hit me on the rock don't drop no cocaine

Thieves lurking in the dark like poltergeist, moving pieces of my brain

You need a gram of that favorite weed?

Faith, all you need is the size of a mustard seed