This is a song about "K fire"

I like a chick wit big breasts on her chest

Cuz it's k-man, ryan and the bars we got left

Wake up and sniff a line of kat i've had my special k,

Something mean, look exactly just like the song say

My records sell, yes sir

Ryan spits hot fire

Got a little kick, but it ain't no tire

Left with nothing but eternal fire

J. cole's her ghost writer

What's with all this fire,

Sick of hard times so i tell em to fall back

Icy k is back, on a verbal attack.

Bitches tend to love a nigga with the most money

Or, if you prefer, d n k r o z

K family, billionaires

I can taste the salt from my tears