This is a song about "Eggs bacon grits sausage"

Mash up the 'tatoes whilst my bitch whisks the eggs

But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps

Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb

No offence taken, i incinerated this beat like fucking crispy bacon,

Meka scary, turn his white ass to a jim carrey twin

Canibus and grits aren't helping my mission

Ain't no eggs for the batter

That don’t mean i’ma stunt her

She's like "son show these pigs what kinda bacon you're on."

It's cole, won't lie, won't stop 'til the race is won

But you're loving mine i am the shit

Like bacon, up on the skillet

Before my eggs and bacon, i squat the world until my legs be shaking

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

Chew thin niggas like under cooked grits

She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits