This is a song about "Lunch tables"

Because this man was murdered, he wasn't out for lunch

To understand that the fucking faggot didn't like me much

Its either a bless or a curse, i cleanse the weak with a breath of my verbs

Be financially stable or busting tables for paper and caught the chasers.

Slapping labels on foreheads and recording excuses in tables

My newest motto to use a condom with newest models

Bout to do some mods right after lunch

Man but this ain't no sign language

Cause we left those class rooms a bit early for lunch

I coulda sworn that budweiser can read fruit punch

But don't fall asleep

Three lunch boxes a week,

They claim it as their own, africa

Bullshit for lunch, brown bag nigga