Ex-boyfriend was wack, she had enough of all that
You want the same whack which make other rat
I keep it crackin like denny's eggs, cuz im the chef,
What the bloodclot, tommy frazier fuck yourself
They at the same spot they making no progress
Was thrown into my closet, to make room for the chef.
No gimmick: real time, real heart
Rat race no rat flow hard
No badass here, just a slacking rat racing queer.
Like i wasn't going for like mix-tape of the year
I fly a tailor and a private chef from sicily
And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
Forever in debt to the lord for he's given
Crack dealer, master chef, i own the kitchen
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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