This is a song about "Butter"

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

Maybe if i shove some butter in the chamber

'cause splittin ya wig is like cuttin butter,

As: and while you’re in my mother

Stomach rumbles low, never stole the dough and butter

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

Where i found a butter knife, it was dull but different.

Fuckin' y'all with no lubricant, go grab the detergent

Me and rap are close, like butter on toast

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

I smoke butter the same color as jalen rose

Making this butter off these bloodsuckers

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse