This is a song about "Chef"

Now you stuck up in my mothafucking basement all bloody

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

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

Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress

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

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

I call that insecure, sh-sh-shawty think she all that

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

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

Triple white ferrari yeah thats the easter bunny

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

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Pac said fuck the world and i ain't come yet

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