This is a song about "The 30"

I work for weeks and lurk the streets learnin how to earn the green/

Went to sleep at seven never woke up from the dream

I am such a renegade, but try to be professional

But oh since i only got 30 lines i keep this short and simple

Vimy ridge. uhh ohh. the germ's got 30 to 45,000 men. oh that's cute.

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

A 30 rack, nick of grass, an acid tab

You, you, you have to pay for that

But it's not about the cash or even how much swag you have/

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

Definition of cold: ice, 30 below

Shades: lv was a little dough

Listen here, i ain't lookin for no tears

But even then sealed his fate for 30 plus some years