This is a song about "Iron chef"

Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

It's time for a bloody foot you little rabbit

I won't say i won't eat it if you chef it

A single mother with a problem child, daddy free

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

Beetle the skin on my female that's word to cee-lo she fine

Iron maidens coins flip like fingers, slip into thick slime

No sequel iron at ya temple

So pretentious with no potential

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

Swung left, no breath, chef ahead, must be fed, kept pet.

Think it's time you and i need to call it quits

Iron fist like gauntlets to your jaw for heroics