This is a song about "Sorting fire"

I've been so thorough, that's what i boast for

Farenheit four fifty one i'm on fire

But then it caught on fire

See, i like the person that you are

What's with all this fire,

I'm gettin discouraged with her

I never use a fork i always spoon her

Left with nothing but eternal fire

And if my mother answer, i'll ask her

Because my soul spit like fire

Well we start the fire

You gon' tip her

Jt: didn't get a gift for her

Im liable to spit cold fire

Fire, i deliver

And that i spent the night with her