This is a song about "Old man in the sea"

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

The old man stared into the eyes of his grandson

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

Cookin' in the old pot, turn into the crack rocks,

I want you to see that you're the sea i swim in

You just working with the scraps you was given

Show them im the king of the sea.

C’mon and let’s chill baby

Baby when i like that, i know it's crazy

Stampede in this game like the hawks of the sea

A hundred more sluts in the sea each one be flooding the streets

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

So i refuse to follow in the same steps as my old man.

You say the art's dying, nah brother buy an album, the plan

Heavy breathing out like an old man

Can you picture my specific plan