This is a song about "Sell a satsuma"

I rap just to pass time mat ta fact i used to sell records for a dime,

Aiyyo i argue with my mother, spring, summer, fall, winter time

They say, trojans never break but it ain't that

Its gonna sell quick call it a 20 sack

I killed more time, more crack to sell

Let me call that hotel

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

You sell yourself for better jobs

And chords, hordes sell in fact cheap

Mmg and that's my clique

If they ain’t talking bout paper

My records sell, yes sir

You need a pair of new kicks even if you need to sell bricks

Go and get it motherfucker, if you murder kids

Stir the beef up in a pot, it's hot, cook it up and sell it,

Ask too many questions about the stars and earth shit