Ayy, Cheese Chemical, fat like a tank,
Whole block shake when he steps off the plank.
Big-ass belly, got a life of its own,
He sit on a curb, shit turn into a throne.
Fuck all that talkin’, he ain't got no game,
Only time he run is when food in range.
Tried to hit a lick, bitch broke the floor,
Cheese so fat, can't fit through the door.
Slobberin' down, he chew like a beast,
Crumbs on his shirt, got ketchup on the seats.
Say he got ops? Nah, bitch got snacks,
And a stash in the whip filled with KitKat packs.
[Hook]
Cheese Chemical, that fat motherfucker,
Snitch on himself for a double-decker supper.
Say he got heat, but it's hot wings, sucker,
Look like Jabba when he movin' through the gutter.
Obese criminal, deep-fried general,
Dropped his gun tryin' to lift his tentacle.
Bitch made, can't even chase a damn threat,
One flight of stairs, got him breakin’ into sweat.
[Verse 2]
Fuck a treadmill, he ain't touchin' that shit,
Only jump he do is to skip the veggie dish.
Sleepwalk to the fridge, bite marks on the door,
Ate half a turkey, then asked for more.
He tried to flex, shirt ripped like a napkin,
Built like a mattress, saggin’ and gaspin’.
Whole hood laughin’, shit turned to a joke,
Posted with a burger like it came with the smoke.
Big fat fuck, he a walking mistake,
Heart beatin’ like it’s dodgin’ a Drake beat tape.
Said he got stacks, all he got is coupons,
Dropped in a chair, broke two futons.
[Hook]
Cheese Chemical, bitch boy breathin’ heavy,
Spine holdin’ on like a beat-up Chevy.
Said he get girls? Nah, maybe if they blind,
His DMs dry like the bottom of a wine.
Call him a savage? Naw, just a junkie,
Chips in his beard, fingers all gunky.
Fuck what he say, that dude ain't a threat,
Only pull up on meals — not no set.
[Verse 3]
Real talk, he built like a crisis,
Tryna do crime, but stuck in his vices.
McChicken mob boss, fries in his bag,
Try to toss hands, bitch choked on a flag.
Pantin’ like a dog when he walk past the deli,
Waddle so hard, shit jiggle like jelly.
Talkin’ all tough, he just mad and bitter,
Still pissed he got banned from Twitter.
Pull up? Bitch, he need a crane and a medic,
Broke a swing set, turned that shit to confetti.
Cheese Chemical, fuckboy in denial,
He sweat in the snow, can’t walk a mile.
[Final Hook]
Cheese Chemical, big dumb bastard,
Dropped his lunch tray, cried like a pastor.
Said he ‘bout war? Fuck no, he pacin’—
Back hurtin’ bad just from standin’ and waitin’.
He a myth, a legend — of laziness and grease,
Whole squad laughin', call that boy a feast.
King Von mode — I don't play with my food,
But if I did, this fat bitch get chewed.
LEON seven-eight, oh-six-seven-nine,
Tryna change ways but still stuck in grime.
Used to run drills, now he readin' them signs,
Tryna pull witches, bad hoes with a mind.
Hood dreams twisted, pain in his gut,
Heart iced out, but he still feel stuck.
Wanna live right, pop out, no mask,
But the past pull back like a gun in the stash.
Bitch, he want spells, not HUGS
