This is a song about "Cooking crack"

Cooking up rhymes like a kitchen you say you real but what you represent is fiction

The outskirts distribute my vision contributing to the burns i position

Kick to the chest, your ribs go crack

Can't win with a passive attack

For what for cookin crack

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Cooking in dexters laboratory, hoping i can tell a story

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

You cooking for angels, always a legend, rockin heaven

The people scared of annihilation when kingdom come

I'm the creator of cooking people til they're thick and crispy like baked potatoes.

I get more respect from the motherfuckin' dope manthe grammy's and american music shows

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Make you wanna hurl? me and you lets let our love unfurl, pulse is cooking

So tell me what they crack

This is why her nigga mad