This is a song about "Music and food"

The mirror's screaming at me saying i'm emmi lola's son

He lives of food vendors and shelters, rendered by grouts that reckon,

Umm, this lane is open if, if you need

And as i can't gather enough food to eat

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla

And thats why i got all this food on my tray, nigga

So i'm going to need some help, on this next part

And pawn shops and thrift stores and food lion, nail it hard,

I am legend, a snicker dick in a vanilly chick

The west coast too, e-40 and them made the hardest music,

Trying not to live on food stamps and eat at gas stations,

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

This for my niggas hustlin until they last minute

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

And i'm the type of muhfucka that'll share you, shoot