This is a song about "Rob morgan"

So pass the weed, i'll rob the game up like butch cassidy,

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

Going to meet rob, and tryin' to act cool

But she forgot about the golden rule

Big rob whaddya think nocturnal means

In private, not public in the streets

Or a uniformed man, i'm tryna uniform 10 million men

I see a problem with the people, they let government rob em

Miami nights, made a couple grand

Trying to rob my lyrical bank,

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

It gets me madder than a mob, it gets me thinkin' i'd rather rob

Rob tutors, book bags and yet still they call

My pride is gone, i'm that guy like aaron hall

Voice in my head it's morgan freeman:

Something wicked this way come