This is a song about "Chef neft"

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

I'm grand theft auto, racketeering, larceny, conspiracy, murder one

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

They giving me pounds and thats of course getting money

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Dc has never seen such progress

Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe string

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

Never will i ever utter never to myself

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

And i don’t know why you sucker niggas can’t see

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

See with a district columbia vision

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

I was born back, wolf pack, nigga fuck that