This is a song about "Sour"

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

One sweet, one sour, my honeybee and my bumblebee

Renown for actin foul and sour every hour

But make it in time for shitty re-runs of rocket power

They engulfing mass sour and mad powder.

But i can't cry, instead i'm just a shoulder

Glued to my taste buds, i can feel em, they sour

Yeah, go ahead and pop it like you do in the mirror

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

They used to hate wit faces like the grapes they ate was sour

But not expecting the sour is your top mistake

Cause by then it's just too late, there's so much we can take

Back pack smell like sour and breath like corona

Aroma, strong enough to bring ‘em outta coma