This is a song about "Chef banyard"

Every body a chef,it's a stretching mission in your nana's second kitchen

While you fucking with mei'm a self-made millionaire!thug livin', out of prison

Swung left, no breath, chef ahead, must be fed, kept pet.

Or will they kill me while i'm sleepin, two to the head

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money

Either dumb or smokin' dippers or something

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

Was thrown into my closet, to make room for the chef.

So, just tell me something about yourself

Like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress

Was thrown into my closet, to make room for the chef.

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

I wear green hats because i'm fortunately lucky