This is a song about "The four virtues"

Dropping a honda four twenty on four twenty,

It ain't nothing to me, i’m who they coming to see

Four in the air for the people stuck in their bubbles

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Manahattan and 40/40, no 40’s but rose poured

Signed a deal, four years, with the devil's sport

Or keep small it around four

And slid back north of course to pen more

While i'm in the back talkin' to my other broad

Either i'm cocking the four or go to the door and slick talk

And tell the doc you'd be dead at four

I breed 'em like i'm going to war

Slangin' rocks with your glocks put this tape in your box

I'm almost done with splitting the track, at twenty-four bars,