This is a song about "Cooking up meth"

I feel like quasimoto with all this shit on my shoulders

Sitting in the room, on the phone, cooking up orders

See, my bitch is imported - she came from overseas

And smoke it while you're cooking meth, it flows with ease,

All of this fuss for heisenberg's blue meth

I'm godbless, i'm success so fuck stress

Cooking up raps like this shits stew

Wolf gang, triple six crew

Sixteen in lab cooking raps like jesus christ

Dope money still a object, it’s the same damn grind

I'm fresh to death doper then uncut meth

To heaven's door -- shed so many tears

Cause it'll never be the same hereso i wipe away the tears

Raps coldest and potent if you noticed the dosage of meth

Injected with ket, meth, lead and jet.

Kick back and know yo son set