This is a song about "Cookin work and choppin it up"

Cookin up grams with arm & hammer supplyin scramblers in alabama

I can eradicate a village if you give me a beat, huh

Be cookin some fire and be dishing out some flame/

Forgetting the seasonslames not in my lane

And i was set loose amidst a swirling tornado of emotions inside my own soul,

Now and days you finish up work and you coming home alone, you pack a bowl

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

Tell them people we ain't leaving go adjust dude

And i'm the type of muhfucka that'll share you, shoot

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

If not, dogg, i'm choking the slut

And as long as it is fucked up

No rubber sole, hardwood bastard

Your hair in a french braid you can make it work

It takes work and alot of dedication to make history,

Paintin perfect pictures ain't never worked, my misery