This is a song about "Trays"

I need it my way, i need 9 trays

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

And showing you and yours that breaking rules is fucking cool again

I am making this out of reanimated beats scheme and inflated trays when,

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Nigga be handin out crawfish trays to lumber heads

My heart livin, got silver lining to soft women

I'm walkin' to the food trays to get some fried chicken,

Nigga be handin out crawfish trays to lumber heads

I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs