This is a song about "Weed bowls"

Fans catch us on animal planet, tracking hoes

So i cure that tragedy by rhyming after bowls

Smokin bowls out of bongs and sniffin lines of white

Tell by your handbag that boy don't do you right

Sweet jesus, where's the weed

And we stumpinbut can't catch the beat

Smokin' bowls of dope, but still these heads will choke and coke,

And i ain't talking rap, man, i'm coming up this road

What do i really need

Who be puffin that weed

We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though

Bored, so i'm packin' bowls / faster than the hands of an average joe

Sometimes i think, what i need

You know i only smoke that bomb weed,

Stay gold, alchemy, nigga we rap's alpha team

And eat about four bowls of some frozen ice cream.