This is a song about "Job centre plus"

Hand on knob, gotta do the job

We popping bottles, it don't stop

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

Pass it round, counter-clock, let her show her titties, stop

Try to focus on school, as music will never be your job,

Insane, crazy, the only girl that can make time then make me stop

Damn, they wanna label me a menace

Forget about that think of the plus

And now it's clear as this promise

My first lyrics were a b plus,

Randy, deezy, plus me.

Ain’t no doubt that shit is crazy

Well, maybe not forever

Rout the centre forced surrender

With lyrics flowing through my head, left, right and centre

I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember