This is a song about "Plate"

Serving rappers on a plate like a top notch meal,

I ain't ever ask for nothing to make it right here

That's why this my mission statement, bitch get it straight

No cash for paint, i look great when beef on the plate,

Step to the plate, witness petrifying diligence

Yeah months in every night she's in tears

Smoke until i ain't got no lungs

Got many bitches on my plate at once

And even though we seperated, you said that you'd wait

No, i ain't, glazed donuts for luncheon, on my plate.

Ma words are like a golden medal on a golden plate

Minus the love, they feel like i was something to hate

But luckily it landed in your lunch plate

Your bitch only like you cause she thinks you getting paid

See let me demonstrate

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate