This is a song about "Cheese rubbers chair leg"

Got that bread, meat, cheese, sandwich

And i roast ya bitch

Cuz when we fail we pull up a chair,

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

And never should you tear

I'm sitting in this fucking chair

The flow hot nasty like a couple siracha flavored used rubbers/

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

The lights may flicker, your face feels red

My friend lost his leg,army are dead

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good

Situated in my chair having evidence presented,

Shrapnel and shard in my leg

She don’t give her nigga head

Trip, and then you never snitch

Got that bread, meat, cheese, sandwich