This is a song about "Bacon couture"

You ain't got enough, to heat the bottom of a pot of bacon grease

Send you to hell, you meet the devil, sign a permanent lease

Im not really like worried about fucking up or you know what im saying

Before my eggs and bacon, i squat the world until my legs be shaking

Therefore before i end this short, i'll make tap like i'm randy couture

Tito santana matador ain't equipped to stop the bull

A biggie imposter bout to turn you into bacon to eat with some flap jacks

Witness me strapped with macs, knew i wouldn't play thatall you old rappers trying to advance

I fuck with leviticus, he told me don't eat bacon

Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them

'cuz i'm bringin' home the bacon, but i'm not a breadwinner,

And i ain't tripping, my only competition’s the mirror

Gett this money flip it like bacon

I just blame it on a man named reagan