This is a song about "Lunch kit"

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

I eat haters for breakfast, lunch, dinner

And niggas ain't shit but you already knew that

Im bringing my jack kevorkian kit

Bout to do some mods right after lunch

Party with bitches that throw parties too much

When he see the jugs he will wanna rush to get a quick touch

Ill eat your rhymes for brunch, and shit the lines before lunch,

Homie will never love her, although he'll probably have a fit

Cause when i get done you might need more than a first-aid kit

Reapin' what i put inside the tuth, here's the sewin' kit

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

I'm hopping in the game without a manual or starter kit

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

I’m way harder than the concrete

Three lunch boxes a week,