This is a song about "Truffle butter records"

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

Candy niggaz re-see's we see ur peanut butter

So if you see us in the club, go on and walk the other way

And torture me by forcing me to listen to records claiming they

Catchdubs you a motherfucker

Melt this track like butter

They giving pounds and that before get the money

And a flow like a butter fly that stings like a bee

They frontin', they charles s. dutton movin' garbage

Coming, shady records muthafucka we gone bitch

Death row and other evil records use lethal methods

He took it to pitchfork, he couldn't get a sentence

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

We had ya pussies flinching before the records started sending.