This is a song about "Poison in the seeds"

Competition i ain't winning but admit it, i'm still in it though

There's chronic seeds in my pockets, i should probably lay low

The blast a few seeds up in your coochie

No cadillac, no perms, you can't see

That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets

And most importantly we gotta sow tolerant seeds

Don't smoke weed, just grow trees, sow seeds,

In private, not public in the streets

I've talked about this before, poison in the seeds,

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats

Everyday audacious plea, pick the fruit of the poison tree

They hating, patrolling and trying to catch me riding dirty