This is a song about "Types of rocks"

Crazed raised off hennesey, tell me will my enemies

I'd remember my favorite types of recipes

From an african american stance

We're two different types of romance,

K.n.b., abstrakt, and motherfuckers, kick rocks,

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Am i just a country boy, who rocks

You pull up in parking lots

And grow up to smoke rocks.

Don't ever hide in a box or ever get hit with rocks

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

And i'm still hurtin over pops

You know odd future it's raining heat rocks

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots

Now the cleanest shots dreaming not of angel rocks