This is a song about "Chef"

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

And if you pay for that yourself

They'll tell you i'm a legend in the flesh that dress to impress

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

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

Grow up broke on tha rope of insanity

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

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

- or i'mma fuckin' put this gun in your fuckin' head

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

So i just pray and hope god, take a light to myself

Are you comingto the point that your running

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

Perfect 10 and lord knows that i need one

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen