This is a song about "Chef neft"

And i'm a just take another guess

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Now you probably wishing that you would have said yes

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

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

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

See i can’t keep you baby girl i'mma confess

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

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

I wonder why we take from our women

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

Froze my bank account and seized my guarantee

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

While you fucking with mei'm a self-made millionaire!thug livin', out of prison

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