This is a song about "Junk"

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

Charcoal seats gray, drop tops like release dates

Probably because you got that autistic junk in your head

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

And junk food that's been feeding me.

My ambitious girl, i won't forget you

My junk hang low like there aint no curfew

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

Make martin luther tell god i'm the future for heaven's talent

Girls be like whoa, you see that mans junk

When it comes to beef it becomes a talent

Since you love working that chrome junk

If you ever feel alone and