This is a song about "Rice and beand"

He fathers her only kid that's why my homies let him live

Want every single thing thats nice, so fuck your single grain of rice

But guarantee all of my women got designer drawers

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

I don't mean to hurt your feelings but go fuck your self with a one kilo bag of rice

See, mel made a couple milli sellin’ jesus passion

So fasten your seatbelts we got rice to ration

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Shout out my nigga miles

Comin straight off the top, pussy like rice krispies

She don't suck nothing, buzzen, but she lick it nice

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

Running and dicing fried rice and no accent on rice please,

Rock em sock em your fucking style is as plain as white rice

You ain’t seen nothing yet, bitch, this just my friday ice