This is a song about "Chef boyardee"

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

And i'm a legend in the flesh that dress to impress

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

I set goals, take control, drink out my own bottlesi make mistakes but learn from every one

I won't say i won't eat it if you chef it

Because there ain't no coming back from that

I keep it crackin like denny's eggs, cuz im the chef,

Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress

But somehow it made them listen

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

‘cause he could die any day and you still the same thing