This is a song about "Cris the crispy cock"

I'm trynna beat up every beat until my feet at the top

I know my lyrics suck more cock, then the average hoe on the block,

Street walking all you jock straps on the cock with hunger

Dripping cold blood like the winter, the summer

But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains

Fuck life, i’ll cock the gun and pop it, blowing my brains,

Go to hell, i mean that, burn you like green backs

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats

Crispy, crispy chicken.

I don't trust no one

Since the birth of my son, the street life losing appeal

You hold the nine and cock it, think about ending shit right here,

I'll paint you with my tongue and stay in those bikini lines

This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines/

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

Put thorough breds in the toaster till nice and crispy