I will sing till I die and I do it because of my hood, I do it so that I can get something on my table; food or rather my daily bread, I do it like I would do a christmas carol for my younger brother back in the ghetto. Where we smoke and puff it hard like they never know we would do. We smoke kush until we become as purple as it is so mummy and daddy knows what we are up to next but we gonna do it like we did it because of our dead grandma as we ball till we fall like her late bulldog.