This is a song about "My junk"

With such an ugly picture in it and

My rhymes propellers, words my instrument

These my rhymes and my story

Ahh, me so horny

You're my hero, my idol, my inspiration

Anyways give it up the capital the nation

Ya can see my, my, my, my kick-off so shout

Words sharp like a jerry rice curl route

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

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/

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

Me and my niggas swarm on you like the killer bees

My junk hang low like there aint no curfew

Since back in high school, we was true, me and you