This is a song about "Rock salt"

Extra salt on the frizzle

Cause it doesn't seem really as simple

Fuckin' up my gold pots

Rock a nigga out his socks

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

Rock over london, rock on the paris of the prairie

// [you're a... rock star]

I guzzle up at the bar

Those are your wounds this is the salt

Cause my mother let me do what i want

We're the main ingredients to making good love salt and pepper

But what i do know, is that he's real and he lives forever

Dad wasn't around -- my father figure was too short

The music, acoustic smelling the breeze of sea salt

A lot of fools puttin' salt in the game

I swear i'll never call you bitch again