This is a song about "Hot bars"

No pork on the fork, but it’s white in the pot

In the kitchen whippin boy stupid hot

The you should look up in the stars

But i got so many bars

At bunker hill hot summer,

Be my mother lover

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

My magma hot bars race between the lines like a squad of cop cars

I though i was red hot

There must be a god

Drip drop, the angels made a pit stop

I just explode, the kettle gets so hot

They burn on every block

Hot, hot, hot! strange, old ain't hot.

And mine somewhere bout mars

I be spittin the bars,