This is a song about "Imbeciles and lasagna"

I pray the lord my guns to keep

They laugh and scream and leap

And i'm dizzy and spinning

Flapjack, ooh he bring

The real muscle in the message of that

Wearing tanks and tatoos and shit.

And more than confident

What i do, through and through and

Mix my guiness with a dr. pepper

And don't ever (and don't ever)

Riddles and jokes and scary crows

Ain't no women at the shows

Shout out them strippers who hustle

And inhospitable,

Wale, d.c. thats me, huh

Now my rhymes straight lasagna.