Mmmmm, Dylan. Ohh Dylan, yeah, shitt, I see you! I been watchin’ you, lil chef boy… mixin’ your lil sauces, yellin’ at your coworkers with that tight lil apron on. I bet he be scramblin’ and scraping for daddy puff if I took him to Turks. serious question though? You ever been lubed up in a Bugatti, Dylan? I ain’t talkin’ bout no lame coconut oil shit neither... I got cases of it...You feel me? everyday, in my holding cell, the first thing I think of? is you. Cuttin’ onions in that hot lil kitchen, glistening like a damn rotisserie chicken. I said ‘Oh, God, please, please, I need this, let me put this boy on a leash and walk him through my panic room in nothing but clogs and kling wrap! You don’t even KNOW what kinda federal-grade freak I am? but, you will soon...I’ll make you squeal ‘YES, CHEF’ Cuz when Daddy come home... everything's on the menu. And baby? You the appetizer.

Mmmmm, Dylan. Ohh Dylan, yeah, shitt, I see you! I been watchin’ you, lil chef boy… mixin’ your lil sauces, yellin’ at your coworkers with that tight lil apron on. I bet he be scramblin’ and scraping for daddy puff if I took him to Turks. serious question though? You ever been lubed up in a Bugatti, Dylan? I ain’t talkin’ bout no lame coconut oil shit neither...it is The kind you gotta sign an NDA for. I got cases of it...You feel me? everyday, in my holding cell, the first thing I think of? is you. Cuttin’ onions in that hot lil kitchen, glistening like a damn rotisserie chicken. I said ‘Oh, God, please, please, I need this, let me put this boy on a leash and walk him through my panic room in nothing but foam clogs, and a leash, from Balenciaga.’ You don’t even KNOW what kinda federal-grade freak I am? but, you will soon...I’ll make you scream ‘YES, CHEF’ while I smother your buns with Versace cologne. Cuz when Daddy come home... everybody’s on the menu. And baby? You the appetizer.

Mmmmm, Dylan. Ohh Dylan? yeah, fuck yeah, shitt, I seen you! I been watchin’ you, lil chef boy… mixin’ your lil sauces, yellin’ at your coworkers with that tight lil apron on. I said mmm, I bet he be scramblin’ and scraping for daddy puff if I took him to Turks, Yeah? serious question though? You ever been lubed up in a Bugatti, Dylan? I ain’t talkin’ about no lame coconut oil shit...fuck, like, it is The kind you gotta sign an NDA and a W-9 for. I got cases of it, Stolen from a Russian diplomat! You feel me? I just got outta that holding cell and first thing I thought of? Was you. Cuttin’ onions in that hot lil kitchen, glistening like a damn rotisserie chicken. I said ‘Oh, God, please, please, I need this, let me put this boy on a leash and walk him through my panic room in nothing but foam clogs, and a leash, from Balenciaga.’ You don’t even KNOW what kinda federal-grade freak I am? but, you will soon...I’ll make you scream ‘YES, CHEF’ while I smother your buns with Versace cologne. Cuz when Daddy come home... everybody’s on the menu. And baby? You the appetizer.

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