This is a song about "Pops"

I never change, i'm like a corpse in a coffin, six feet shit's deep

I'm not saying pops did nothing, cause without a dad you're incomplete.

Stepping out fly shit, straight purple cloud shit

And pray to pops that i make it

I'm at morgan, howard, coppen, trying to find that higher knowledge

Pops had his flaws, had a fuckin problem and lost so much/

She got mad i leaned over, i'm nursing her

You blow harder than my pops snow blower

With shocks at hospital, we learned to just duck when it pops,

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Flyin’ through the city, all-black, bruce wayne

Every fucked up thought that pops in my brain

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Off, then i'll crank the nozzle til his fuking head pops.