This is a song about "Pottery"

Seshin on this killa reefa that be the pol pot/

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

You could strike lottery, with a hammer harder than metal pottery

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

My kicks like my chick, i don’t need to know the numbers

You with your pot o' gold while i carving different cultures

Compare me too that bastard pot head

Their buzz internet and mines in her net

Nessy loch monster stop will he though? probably not

My shit's hot like i took a dump in a crock pot

Catch me in the kitchen whippin with a gold pot

Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job

He wares a linen cloths and a pair of reed sandals

That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups

Murdered every bod from my squad

Java whatever i'm boiling in your pot.