This is a song about "Chocolate balls"

Makes me milk with chocolate chip cookies,

I'm everything that they call nice

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

Don't test me unless you got the balls

So when ya see me nigga

They call it chocolate vanilla

Light up a white chocolate blunt and take it in turns

I refuse to be another being on this earth

Sittin on bowling balls

Huh, a metaphor of course

As you sit and pray, hoping the beatings'll go away

Yo yo today is my birthday, wheres my chocolate sundae,

His balls hang awkwardly isosceles

She don't suck nothing, buzzen, but she lick it nice

Cut out your livers gizzards and balls

Ironic cause your lipstick is red, of course