This is a song about "Weed clouds"

Anyways give it up the capital the nation

Its a party in the clouds don't need an invitation

Like a church in debt

Skies are black, clouds are red

No dark clouds, just silver linings

Wish i could shed all these tears

Waiting holding her stomach but holmes would never find out

My soul flying to the clouds, but then i feel that doubt

It made its way home like a road map, i fathered this

Ripping holes in clouds as my altitude diminishes

Gat under my sheep coat, i'm blowin' clouds of weed smoke,

Your bitch, she ain't laughing, but my bitch thinks it's a joke

I hope that you'll remember me when the clouds are away

Please, stay strapped, pack a gat every day