This is a song about "Where the butter is"

Where the hell is my mental rap?!

It's all good, finna dog that

"where is it?" under the bed? in the depths of the shed?

That whatever it creates it will land in the head

What preceded was the clue

Is the one where i'm beating you

Where the hell is my mental rap?!

Now you got me hopped up on that

One way or another it's to the gutter unless you stay stacking the butter

If ya do upset metell the cops to come and get merip the crowd like a phone number

This is the where your adventure stops

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

'cause splittin ya wig is like cuttin butter,

The ice ain't really nothing to her