This is a song about "Jizzed in my pan"

I awoke to be cookin like a fryin pan,

*cough cough*, that's some potent shit oh there go police man

I'm a real producer and you just a piano man

Crack skulls with a frying pan and cooked you up like eggs and ham

You can search but you'll never find

In my heart and in my mind

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

Got my head in my hands.

Im lightning in a skillet your a fuckin flash in a pan

I'm respected from californ-i-a way down to japan

Dressed in your jizzed stained rags

But you don't have a chance

A dead-pan soul attributed to this kid/

I'm doing shit i never might of did

I understand, i'm back by popular demand

The world in my wallet, the universe in my hand