This is a song about "Guns and butter"

If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns

I ain't never gonna bow down to your expectations

Im starting to see guns and knives

Daytime bus pass, now it’s night flights

Stomach rumbles low, never stole the dough and butter

You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for

Her lips and my dick, they stick together like a nutter butter

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

And some of the stuff i tried to do they had never seen

In my bread and peanut butter you're the jelly in between

Pull out guns and let 'em spark

Yeah, see, breaking up is hard

We used to be like distant cousins, fightin, playin dozens

Rullette russian rappers and guns related they cousins,

I got rhymes for days nigga i'm cold

Me and rap are close, like butter on toast