This is a song about "Cabbage"

I bring the meat, you bring the cabbage, i bring the heat, you bring the draft picks,

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

I pull up in that 'rari with them other ones

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

My dick romaine lettuce and yours some stank ass cabbage

You so f-full of your-s-self that you just sit and judge

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Shut the fuck up little cabbage-patch activists, class slackers,

I get creepy as cabbage patches latched and attached to men,

When it come to pistols, these niggas don't john lynch them

And if that means that i'm askin for too much

Prognosis not good, mam, your son is a cabbage

Shut the fuck up little cabbage-patch activists, class slackers,

This ain’t for all and every people, don’t compare me to rappers