This is a song about "Rob dyrdek"

The concept is so absurd

Than i rob you and smoke all your herb

For things they would rob for, pickin' pockets in the projects,

My ambition to win, just to get me some ends

I know i'm not the only bastard in america

Rob a bank, i'd drive for my motherfuckin' nigga

I'ma rob you of your mic and your life if you don't fucking stop

Until she figured out that she don't really like to bang cock

Always got a song to do can't get along it's true

Rob, he's be telling me good things about you"

And you don't wanna go to clubs no more and

Trying to rob my lyrical bank,

Going to meet rob, and tryin' to act cool

I'm going hard for the days i was piss poor