This is a song about "Pockets gettin fatter"

They go from dump truck slackers to uncle buck, but fatter

It's like we both forgot what we were fightin' for

Quit trying it seems you're only getting fatter

Synthesizer, i'm the mothafucking master

Smokin' weed like it ain't no thing, so even kids

Shining a light on my lack of focus, broke pockets/

Ya plans will surly shatter, your rhymes are pretty fat be mines a little fatter.

So i tried to show her about the world and about just who we really are

Cause you be lookin fatter from eatin too many peanut butter pancakes

Nothing's gonna compare to the sound in the morning which he wakes.

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

Pockets loaded, infected, lookin swollen

Now it's yachts, pockets got enough knots to take mobs shopping

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Have you with professional killas, chasing hits

Some old motherfucking nurses checking up my pockets