This is a song about "Chef boyardi"

I’m callin’ on you ’cause i can’t do it myself

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

Self-hatred...i hate you...and myself

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

Perfect 10 and lord knows that i need one

Just to try to get a piece of success, love me less

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

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

Are you comingto the point that your running

Millie on my neck, thumbin through that check

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

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

I’m at the limit where i be amazing myself

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

Y'all can't ever fade that, i don't ever lack shit