This is a song about "Spruce tree"

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look

Chopping my style down like spruce wood

And niggas flashing crazy

Of bad bitches and good tree

I know when you're coming babymy tongue got you going crazy

But you try craming a different fruit from the same tree

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

I'm not too good at this, ill just smoke some tree

Call me lazy, i ain't your baby

Gotta love the smell of that burning tree,

Yet fame growing slower than a tree.

Just sit back and relax and take it easy

You don't know me, or my family tree

So high i’m on the ceiling baby

Baby when i like that, i know it's crazy

Now im sitting right under that money tree