This is a song about "Grilled ch"

I know that b**ch won't turn my body to stone

I'm definitely in a class of my own

We must, be the flyest of southerner men

Mothafuckin' difficult, ch-yeah, til then

Brandun deshay, hodgy beats, ace the creator

Grilled your ass medium rare check please waiter

But i'm like nah, this b**ch needs to say

It's like sunshine on a rainy day