This is a song about "Grits and eggs"

What do i really need

And kill yourself and your clique

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

Hey baster stop battling me (carl c) your master, your spiting some eggs

And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex

Why are you boiling like eggs, grunting at my face like pigs?

Up all night with college hoes, edibles and bong hits

Mash up the 'tatoes whilst my bitch whisks the eggs

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Grits chopped off for the love and affection

I know they pay me too much of attention

Chew thin niggas like under cooked grits

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

While we suffer in summer our supper is eggs

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs