This is a song about "Onkel p"

So just pass the weed, i smash ‘em g’s, you can call my ass a master p,

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Making g's was my missionmoving enough of this shit to get my mama out the kitchen and

Long as i have my p and my 3 meals, smoke the thc, roll mean blunts as big as king kongs wifes cunt

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

And i still havent seen one bit of my p

Of a koenigsegg going 200 m-p-h trough the interstate

We'd have you fallin' and now you scrapin' from that kemba shake

But i can't stop like r h c p

Lovin how i got you niggas crazy

Dont take the p... out of people less fortunate,

They say, trojans never break but it ain't that