This is a song about "Eric s dick"

They is terrycloth with it, i'm italian leather

He's not superman, he's eric bischoff playing the jester

And thinkin 'bout it, i'm goin and gettin another one

40's on the 20's with the stove top, i'm steady plannin',

Till you scream " what s my what s my name whats name!!!!

Got the fridgedest temperature on my wrist again

Called that bitch my quaterback, wild cat all that

Get wit this 90's baby tupac shit

I keep my friends close, enemies closer, fuck both, i dont trust no one

Running fakes over like a battering ram, eric dickerson

Eric ya long-haired derelict look what i've got stock in store,

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Money, cash, hoes, 420's the cleverest verse,

All black everthing on some jigga shit

*angel* hell no, eric, those goals are generic,