This is a song about "Lunch"

My money like a senior, watch it graduate

But luckily it landed in your lunch plate

And i never ever skipped lunch,

Trying to give them light and a message

Be beside, lord, just give the right to desire or admire such

Tuckin' heat in dungarees and overalls, the free lunch,

But i'll be a damned if i let a man try me for his lunch

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

My mama smoked so god damn much

Its lunch you bitches still eating brunch,

Gotta get hutch cuz he makes me lunch,

Cuz i acknowledge i am far more knowledge

And mama doesn't make enough, so you're eating the free lunch,

No coach bag if i go with that, snake skin tote that cobra clutch

Now you speaking my language

Munch. this is lunch, fuck a mallet, punch,