This is a song about "Chef curry"

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

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

Don't worry. im steady busting these 3's just like my nigga stephen curry,

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money

Call me a warrior, not because i like curry

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

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

Nigga with too much to say, you might make a fool of yourself

I'm brown and i like curry

Looking at your money

They giving pounds and that before get the money

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

Ok, black panamera, dash on a million

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen