This is a song about "Job application"

Squeak your hooters bitch, and keep your day job

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

I watched my ma whip up work fukk a havin a job

Couple of foreign cars that i ride, no top

He say, she say, oh my god

Hand on knob, gotta do the job

May not have the job i want to

Uh, i'm tryna learn something new

The principle came up and she said i did a good job,

Give me tall glass, coconut ciroc, please, no soda pop

If thats your job, call me the saboteur.

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

I'm just sayin' i got fuckin' problems, mama's got a job,

The beggars can't borrow, the record sales drop

Then the bitch get lock jawwe on top like toupeshat to the back, with 2 braids

Back to my life application, you might think i'm happy, with this good fucking grades