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

I like my girls skinny with brains

I train in spittin flames,

And burst in a ball of flames

So if you done with these beijing games

We ain't playing no fucking games

Sorry shakie but i run from flames

I keep it crackin like denny's eggs, cuz im the chef,

Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress

Bats and hatchets at the ratchet rappers, automatics,

And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks

But the chef won't let me me eat nothing

Frightening, so fucking frightening

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

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

To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money

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