This is a song about "Chef boyardi"

With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less

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

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

If we thinking success is only measured by your money

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

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

And that's jay line i had to quote that

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

And my only fear's a wedding ring

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Clicquot for the girls in the tight dress

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

My bitches ballin' to the maya moore's, yes

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

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette