Cutting up the weed like the hole in the fence-where we used to get bent-no babysitting on the chronic leaf-ironically- theres a Daycare there now for Mothers with kids-where we used to play and blaze as kids- we so Homegrown just watch it grow in our own bacyard-like ELAC Park-and Weingart-bac then we had fish scales weighing the bark-me and Ray little Popeyes with the Spinach- we had so many pacced Swisher Sweets the blunts are never finished-I fill up Pigeons-with the Blacc Thang in they guts-then pump them up-then make the black stuff-come out they guts-I keep it pepper no salt-I don'twant to dissolve-Jason's Big Slug then it would be Mantova Drive with no BAL-just Dwin Hills-no Don no Shell-how would the Saga Continue with no Sidney Sheldon-that's letters with no mailing-no stamps just blank expressions-I'm controlling the Cherry Street-like Tweed-no boss because a nobody-that dies broke in jail don't mean nothing-to Vanderbilly-odd fellows out-don't count-in this lucrative hustle called Crown Town-they like them stocks watered down-with no sound can't flow with these Vanderbilt traccs made in The Angel's Town-I'm John Mak 11 Da Foxx-succeeding the fake Tweeds-no one follows except weens-with no Tweets-no words mean they can't be seen-by real peeps-I got a Virgin girl named Lacy hanging with me like a big cherry at Lacy Park-on Virginia Road after dark-posted like if Monretery Road was Monterey Pass Road in Monterey Park-oh mang Julie can give me Twofaces all day-down Lovers Lane-where we play-the fair way-Queen Anne was so sad-when I told her no more playing in my Arcade in my Old Ranch-no more Goblin Queen and eating the night away until the sun pass-no more Goblin King on dat ass-the Peacock Cafe Lounge is closed-she loves 4ever my Din Tai Fung Tooty Loc-I got the hunting mac the Hungtington Arcadia Park-to ghost bust a mark-not down with The Park-clicked up with the 626 Night Market-we got the right target-we flood with SAP Gate 7 and Gate 8-and send the Evil Ghost bacc to it's rightful domain-that's how Santa Anita Park stay safe-no Grinches to ruin our Christmas Day-flip it from Alhambra Sears-to Chicago Towers called Sears-from Madeshore Drive-to Lakeshore Drive-I make shores when I rip tide-Im with the beaches soaking up this Rip Life-bury me in the sand-thats my Hourglass-time is nothing but cracced shells-in forgotten sand pails-on there way to the Windmills of the Sand Gods-you aint got no cover on your ball still burried under the Sandlot-where we park our Sanddodge-a Charger unlimited tick tocks-black card colored paint the trim dont stop-the President Custom rims don't pop-the crooked grins on lop-evil smiles reflect the grim of the bloccs-where the weed can't help the sense of morbid shots-that can't miss the knots-and blow out Cuckoo Birds to the Hollywood Hills the Robin Block-and take your Golden Wings and there timeslots-where they were flappin with halos on Nine Floccs-clouds with no high drops-this The Neverending Topz TNT-Two T's like Tooty-you know the baddest one coming with me-Im parked live-like my Walter Kronkrite-Boat Life-in the Lagoon of True Doom-I hook em up with Norman Cay-they my shark food bait-how I lure predator freaks to may-they my Columbian Cracc-in my Candywoman Bagz-my Private Medallion Tolkens-just to get in my Traphouse Tilt smokin-no vacancies unless Moses chosen-with signs that are Godly Golden-talking commandments that radiate the motion-of smoked steaming oceans-at the Garfield Inn all I do is 4 Ball-like Level 4 Ball-like the 4 White Lamp Balls-a Hungry Hungry Hippo on call-Emergency Room Surgeon on ERS-East Riggin Street in Da West-cutting up the weed-like Nat and my Grandpa's cutting up the green-


Lyrics submitted by WestburyRdEnt.

Cuttin' Up the Weed song meanings
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