This is a song about "Cookies and creme"

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Shout out my nigga miles

And there's little to be glad for

And don't ever (and don't ever)

Grab the scissors and saws and

I’m trifling, damn right ignorant

And nasty remains and bones

This is oh so much like getting votes

And don't ever (and don't ever)

My records sell, yes sir

These cookies can crumble, if they causing some trouble

Rack city, rack city she need a shovel

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

Riddles and jokes and scary crows

Man this life is but a dream

Raps and beats and rhyme scheme,