This is a song about "Yellow lasagna the bell jar logic"

The cp3 of this rap game, i bet my nigga score

Suddenly that weed falls out of the jar on the floor

Like the ripper body parts collected in a jar like leather face

I’m stuntin’ the ferragamo, i’m running that medal pace

With gin and tonic, the grim logic, we're racist against,

Though my credits are slept, my ambition the best

Now my rhymes straight lasagna.

I try to tell them i'm one of the

Spit shit like ali to make the knock out bell ring

So that make you a queen, surviving anything

Follow the yellow brick road, stroll down southern streets

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats