This is a song about "Salt n peppea"

A lot of fools puttin' salt in the game

Flyin’ through the city, all-black, bruce wayne

So the ones eye has freak don't run

To strengthen your defending 'n

Hustlas ‘n drug dealers struggling passed their troubles ‘n

Everybody know me like the contra code for extra men

You're listening to this mix tape 'n

Well baby bot there ain't no question

Hot shots to your sternum n melon have u hurtin n yellin

I need something to hold fuck that passive aggression

The music, acoustic smelling the breeze of sea salt

Lookin’ at my rollie, ’bout thirty grand what that cost

Stackin my chicken, braggin to the bitches

Here's the artist putting salt where you scar is