This is a song about "Fuck chef"

Watching for the cops that's moving through

Fuck reppin red fuck reppin blue,

Swung left, no breath, chef ahead, must be fed, kept pet.

Kinda pop tart, when i bite into them red

Was thrown into my closet, to make room for the chef.

What the bloodclot, tommy frazier fuck yourself

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

Fuck the haterz, fuck the doubters

Call on one of your girls

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

I never wore a kufi, ignore my religion

I set goals, take control, drink out my own bottlesi make mistakes but learn from every one

Every body a chef,it's a stretching mission in your nana's second kitchen

Crank it up like you don't give a fuck fuck fuck

I can hear the bells ringing off the nice dream truck