This is a song about "Hostess cakes"

And tell ‘em that i don’t give a damn

Coppin them cakes and chop it but hey man

Rap game mr. kipling with the way i bake cakes,/

Trying to shake, the crates and fakes and snakes

Pattying cakes with her son and he looks like he's glad

Like my old prom suit that i wore with the tag

Worldwide, but i got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades

Bein sensible, take the ladder and pick up the cakes

I once contemplated suicide, and woulda tried

More major than frajer cakes baked; man, they got the cons right

I'm hungry for the cakes and everybody want some

But when it’s all said and done i’mma be ahead of them

Never the gold, i wanted gold plated chains

When i expose you like glitter and cakes