This is a song about "Jizzed in my pan"

This is why i'm hot much hotter than a frying pan

Fuck whoever said the rap game wasn't edible man

Auction coke to the coppers, glocks in the locker and

The world in my wallet, the universe in my hand

I'm everything that they call nice

Peter pan in my youth, fucking fairies

Spit rounds gotchu dancing prancing peter pan type shit

Eyes wide, ears open like you on a doctor's visit

Yow am ridin around in my

God damn it, i'm one hell of a guy

Sitting in my chair relaxing in the sun

Cold, my style making my nose run

So rest in peace in my hand

Whether you rhyme slow or the beat fast

Im my own person in my own lane,

I swear i'll never call you bitch again