This is a song about "Andrews porridge"

I'm ill, chronic sickness, neither porridge nor lozenge fix this the knowledge

Walk like i'm drunk, swagga so uhgodyard trunks go around i got a bunch

This is why her nigga mad

If white was the new black

Catch me in the kitchen whippin with a gold pot

Hair weave killer had on louie's in my mug shot

I love the way you walk

Get it hot in the pot

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

All white boys live white collar and there scholars,

Pissin' on the demons of the earth

Pudding? but what's for pudding, may you ask?

Cause even thugs get lonely, understand

Settle down maybe grow some pot

As long as we're cooperating with god