This is a song about "Home skillet"

I'll whip a 750 if it's black on chrome

Your story ends its time to go home

And the v12, that's on various trips

Runnin home invasions

Severed skulls with my skills using a skillet

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that

A boy who feels his home, just ain't his home

Hit towns with coke, a .45 blue as chrome

Of rotten mold inside your noggins cottage home

Paparazzi, magazines: please leave me alone

This nigga jasper trying to get grown

And i'ma call it my home

Enough heat , to melt down your fucking home

Getting brain when i’m talking on the phone

Its a home run, your domes done, go home son

Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun