This is a song about "Juan the pan"

When i'm fuckin' and we on cloud nine for that minute

Spit rounds gotchu dancing prancing peter pan type shit

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Intendent attend them, cool cause

Chima ferguson's bangin', you ace niggas is low card, wolf gang

I got masterplans for haters toss em in the fryin pan

A dead-pan soul attributed to this kid/

I'm hoping we can change with timei'm living blinded

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Sort of remind you, why you don’t court no vagina

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

The water from the past is the same water in the present

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

Since nino, g-money, the carter, and the duh-duh man

Now you go hit me like this with a frying pan

It's all too black for me to blame it on the man