This is a song about "Chef"

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

Now you probably wishing that you would have said yes

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

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

Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

You smell the ounce, i ain't even in ya house yet

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

So, just tell me something about yourself

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

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

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

Chopping threw lyrics like im a masked chef

Either dumb or smokin' dippers or something

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing