This is a song about "Serve me"

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love

I always ask myself do i honestly serve a purpose,

I rush to tend her, talked as i touch her

We'll cook ya for lunch and serve you at red lobster,

Now i'm self made; and i'm high paid

And i’ll be sure to serve you with a cold plate,

Bands on top of bands, got me fuckin’ her and her friends

No doubts that my team'll murk the rest,beat & serve the pests

I just murdered, this flow can serve as memento

So i, i stack paper and keep it ghetto

Dear dad a failure of patience/ congratulations/ my observations serve me well/

I turtle-shell niggasin harold and bell, niggaseat you like lunch, before the bell

When all physical and trivial things serve as a crutch.

Look into your eyes i realize that i like you so much