This is a song about "Jenny lewis"

Now cook me a meal, gordon

Me and my microphone could be one

These days we praise martin

I don't trust no one

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

The truth, with martin luther king at the cemetery,

You hear that shawty, shh no more talking alright

[54]liberal linguals, my mouth tingle, my mind clamp tight

Higher than a vanilla sky, float by you

Joseph called me a faggot but it aint true

Magic johnson money but i ain't got no rims

Tell em they mind clippin i give em like 5 minutes

These days we praise martin

Though uncalled for, they gon drop them