This is a song about "Junk"

Secret society all we ask is trust

Girls be like whoa, you see that mans junk

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

Then '09 came, them bad record sales

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

Sorry i'm so demanding, sick of dancing back to mansion and

Guess it's something like your girl, nigga it ain't came yet

Probably because you got that autistic junk in your head

Call me lazy, i ain't your baby

And junk food that's been feeding me.

We gotta find peace and end the war in the streets

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