This is a song about "Ratchet hoes haters chef curry ferarri flames"

Don't worry. im steady busting these 3's just like my nigga stephen curry,

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Fuck your ratchet hoes, i kill the mic with spasmatic flows,

I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close

Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes

Dodgin ratchet hoes, like im dodgin these cones

Call me bobby ray, but it’s not two names

Sorry shakie but i run from flames

Your temper tantrums are ratchet too pacifists to catch it

But when i knock this shit off, i'mma go and buy some laker shit

Swung left, no breath, chef ahead, must be fed, kept pet.

And my vision isn't set on the money i get