This is a song about "Small rocks"

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Now the cleanest shots dreaming not of angel rocks

One night, i was selling some rocks

Fuckin' up my gold pots

They told me i should die n they threw rocks

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

Should read the small print here's a small hint,

You're talking to one of the greatest

Need a girl whos tryin' to ball

Her tits are fucking small

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

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

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

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

You know odd future it's raining heat rocks

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box