This is a song about "Red rocks"

And grow up to smoke rocks.

Fuckin' up my gold pots

K.n.b., abstrakt, and motherfuckers, kick rocks,

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

You know odd future it's raining heat rocks

One night, i was selling some rocks

A hell of motherfucking road blocks

Cookin' in the old pot, turn into the crack rocks,

For multiple years, witness peers catch gunshots

What a feeling of overcoming the odds

Am i just a country boy, who rocks

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

Slinging crack rocks on the clock a paradox

I've seen the drug busts, cocaine cooked into crack rocks,

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops