This is a song about "Stealing bikes and smoking blunts"

Two aks and a box of blunts

Odd future wolf gang, wolf gang presents

Is rampant like the gambling and the stealing in harlem,

Another ratchet got dumped, in the trashcan i ain't done

You listenin' to her is leaving you with empty nights

Without the racist hicks and ghetto thugs jackin' bikes,

Bodies break down and still smoking cigarettes,

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Niggas wanna know why i'm so nice

So im spittin over beats and smoking trees

We dig the plot and never bury pot

Im talking fat blunts, and they don't ever stop

Sherm-sticks, rollin' blunts, smokin' up, and dope is cheap,

Now the first week sales can't hardly compete