This is a song about "Stacks of mon"

Mami told me son, hold your own

Growin out my dreads, i'm bob marley mon

Back to the flashbacks blowing stacks

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks

Well, i’m flyin' over, literally, flyin' over cities

I can't believe it, you're out here making stacks of cheese

But fuck that, i live in the hood and we need y'all cats

Track every stack, now im back, and rack stacks

Smoking hash thats where the stacks at

Can't win with a passive attack

Cash stacks, yep that's what i'm all about

There must be another route, way out

I'm sick of ya wack crap, talking shit but the fat stacks

Cause he tried to educate and liberate all blacks