This is a song about "Hot plate"

Guess i'm self made

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

I got six clips to the fuckin' duct tape

All within me, that's a lot on my plate.

Ma words are like a golden medal on a golden plate

Your bitch only like you cause she thinks you getting paid

I don't need no fucking throne

Gold plate wit dat rine stone

'cause i don't have typical shit on my dinner plate

City national bank evolve into shape

Kill you, shoot the funeral up and harlem shake at your wake

Once a date, then comes a plate and i can't operate,

Step to the plate, witness petrifying diligence

Look this the joint that could get me the spins

Like an old paper plate

They fasting they won't leave me ate