This is a song about "Dog butter"

If its not couture, i will not go to her

'cause splittin ya wig is like cuttin butter,

And my regime includes east coast

Me and rap are close, like butter on toast

Every dog has it's day

I've got so much to say

Valerie’s legs would spread as often as butter

Listen busters, scarier when i finger fuck her

One way or another it's to the gutter unless you stay stacking the butter

If ya do upset metell the cops to come and get merip the crowd like a phone number

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

I smoke butter the same color as jalen rose

I was alerting her just to reinsert in her

Stomach rumbles low, never stole the dough and butter

Man i spit that pimp talk

And control this shit yourself dog.