This is a song about "Shane mustard"

Middle name shane, born all the same

Balling, but it’s not a game

He eats rows of em with mustard

Nothing i'mma do is gon work

Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb

You're faker than a german hot-dog with no mustard,

My block, that's right! heh

Drug dealer shane, lame eh?

My middle names shane, no shame

All the bitches know my name

Your body's saying things i ain't never heard

Need more flava like mustard,then mustered and mastered

The world's too much for the soul to enjoy

Fuck shane battier that nigga a soft boy

We gotta find peace and end the war in the streets

Just to see, these metaphors spread a course like mustard seeds