This is a song about "Pocket knife"

And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could

Trunk fulla speakers, pocket fulla good

You reachin in your pocket

And i'm still high, so i'm tryna dip

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

Another victory i've accomplished, more money in my pocket

And get a hall pass for this class-act shit

And i wish i had #420 bucks in my back pocket

In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise

In prison shanked by a knife

And now i only listen to this hip-hop shit

1 & 1 doesn't equal crack rock in ya back pocket,

She crazy, that stalker shit

No money in pocket

I got a laptop in my back pocket

Hoes blow for me, i maestro, shit