This is a song about "Mochi ice cream"

The truth hurts baby , lick the ice cream off your cone

I date a white girl soundin' black on the phone

We're freaky leeches, no sweet peaches or cream,

I spitting bars the metronome the money machine

Scooping ice cream from that goonies scene

Through the years tryin to stack a little green

Be the king, that was part of my dream

And much good stuff like homemade ice cream

Imma call her and have that bitch lick the tip of my ice cream cone like a

But that's a lie, so give this thug a tryi'd rather be ya nigga

So we're plottin up a scheme to get the seven figure cream

If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen

Respect equality and a right to make cream

Down in miami, with a super ho team

Yall sweeter than ice cream cones

Fake niggas get dial tones