This is a song about "Home skillet"

Your story ends its time to go home

Yeah, he blowing up your cell phone

Enough heat , to melt down your fucking home

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

And millions of homeless people back home

Mami told me son, hold your own

So i guess you think you grown

They're telling you too go home

The kings get killed very least overthrown

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

Nobody is going home

Stop blowing up my cellphone

Please sugar don't come alone

Hardly thinking of the girl at home,

Severed skulls with my skills using a skillet

No less profit, themed when we drop shit