This is a song about "Tale of despereaux"

I'm hot breeze, snot sneeze

Top of my pile of bodies

Tap my partner roscoe like bruh, i'm drunk as hell can't you tell

But you must sell a tall tale of a dell and a florist named nel

But right there, they still scheming, they not eating

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Because i strangle hold, the tale is told

And i drop top off in a hot cold

You's a fag, you like that shit, o.f. is the fucking clique

Now let us start to preach, with a tale to scar you deep

Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon

Get your revenue popping before you ever do talk on them

Behold the unrolled scroll, my tale is untold and woe.

The roc to allido, they all believe me though

Black women hold it down shawty, it's all love

Of which im not exactly proud of,