This is a song about "Luci mason"

With my semen and oppressed by my give a fuck less

Clean ya own mess, then cross the bridge as we progress

Your ho be on my penis, she check my french, bitch

Extention chords bout to break like the new york city bridge.

Man, this nigga ugly and he raps, ooh

Paul mason is faster than you

Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen

I'm bout to stick the whole game up with no gun

Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money

I’m at the bridge, boutta jump off right into the sea,

I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily

Now you stuck up in my mothafucking basement all bloody

In your gold pot addin' extra sauce because

Throw your ass over the bridge, with the fishes

Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money