This is a song about "Host"

But can i really call me one when i talk most to a host

Unless your 'skin's winning, then i do it just to fucking boast

The director, host is my agenda, italian leather

An understatement said that k. lamar was under pressure

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

But for most i see you as a ghost on while i be the host,

Has played host to a host of the wrong, known all along though.

If you ready then i'm ready go, hear this on my radio

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

So hood i put sugar on toast then i serve it like a host

It’s a neighborhood where nervously i host black friends,

Came from humble beginnings now its nothing but ends

Girl your body lookin’ like a fuckin’ pot of gold

Wrapped around your throat, you about meet death with me as your host

My ambition to win, just to get me some ends

Rednecks would get nervous when you would host black friends,