This is a song about "Dish washers"

You're like the sun and winter, my pot of gold

You know, they say that dish is best served cold?

Hot like a cajun dish not like you lame ass pricks cuz you spit bars

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Naked woman rub my back

Do the dirty work, dish rag/

Fix a dish of rapper's dicks, most of y'all are gimmicks,

Or the crack that they sell to put food in their kids

I serve a dish that will burn the lips of who's turn it is

And when it come to tight games i'm o.t. with the bitches

Salute me, game: invented it, and you can't get no membership, little bitch

Dish you out without a doubt or second thought as though i forgot what you did snitch,