This is a song about "Bake"

So that's 2 mistakes 1 big headache and 1 sorry mom cake to bake

Killa i roller cheese blazed, high as fuck and feelin' great

Cause either you gonna whine or you climb; i chose the latter

So don't be suprised when i bake you under the hot platter.

And need to put that shit on bake and pull out a meal

But still homey keep it real, how does it feel

But if i can't batter the women how the fuck am i supposed to bake them a cake then

Instead of countin sheep, niggas countin cannibalsand that's how it is in the pen

So that's 2 mistakes 1 big headache and 1 sorry mom cake to bake

Uhh, can it be fatethat makes a sick muthafucka break

My homeboy like yo sister maybe they can bake some cousins

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

But if i can't batter the women how the fuck am i supposed to bake them a cake then?

Then start again, don't have no muthafuckin' friends niggalook inside the heartz of men