This is a song about "Junk"

That's why i get cut like i don't fuck with the coach knees

[j] jeez, jesus is jabbin' my junk in justice juries.

You're wasting space like junk mail and sperm whales,

Wale, more times than not, am not for whom the air waves

I'm a gentlemen women tell me my wisdom is different

Tell me that you're joking not rapping, your raps are like a cane of junk

And junk food that's been feeding me.

A military mind mean money

Thats kool-aid, moutain dew, and cris on you

My junk hang low like there aint no curfew

Girls be like whoa, you see that mans junk

Real nigga, pardon whoever feel different