This is a song about "Jizzed in my pan"

A dead-pan soul attributed to this kid/

Buy a chick a new bag when she taste good

Gettin good graces, take his money, aa-another one

You faggots had your chance to pan me, i plan to be grimy son,

Earl boykins i 'm hearing voices i try and listen

Sitting in my chair relaxing in the sun

I have memories of melodies in my life. (in my life)

That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin' sellin' lies

No matter how much i try, stay alive, i'm a die a man

Crack skulls with a frying pan and cooked you up like eggs and ham

I shine like something in the sky

Yow am ridin around in my

Spit rounds gotchu dancing prancing peter pan type shit

This is like love, that you can never get

But he ain't beggin' for itand you can't love it you can

Im lightning in a skillet your a fuckin flash in a pan