This is a song about "Bake em"

I tell em sparks got em i aint gotta diss em again

And i believe in them, a couple lames out there had beef with them

But here i am, ricky bobby, shake and bake it

It's time for a bloody foot you little rabbit

Studied up and i passed ‘em

Then lost her faith again

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

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

Makin em drop/, making em pop,/

Fuck that job been around that block

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

Uhh, can it be fatethat makes a sick muthafucka break

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

I don't do dishes but i throw away your plates

Rap game mr. kipling with the way i bake cakes,/