This is a song about "The philosophical science of potatoes and whipped cream"

Of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers

Is it defying the laws of physics and science

Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns

So when i spit the message and leave it and drop the science,

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

And when i kick you to the ground, i'm shouting "science bitch"

Vicious transmission for my vicious ambition

Supreme cream of the crop every where i've been

The science with hidden places n' government leaving clues and traces

See you later, cause baby i'm a player, and all i heard was

For some nice hookers, the cream of the crop

True, indeed, i don’t rep no block

And eat about four bowls of some frozen ice cream

Weed they can't fuck with, i'm puffin a.c. green

Self-esteem at top cream of the cream, i score the green, whore.

Grew up in the jungle where it's killers at war