This is a song about "Stock"

Fuck these gomers, our country's run by stock brokers.

I feel like quasimoto with all this shit on my shoulders

Or stock dealin' there's no excuse for the preenin'

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Eric ya long-haired derelict look what i've got stock in store,

While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for

In your ears as i kiss ya, on every curveslow down baby don't rush, i like it slow

Fuck a gun wheres my bow? flaming arrow in stock, aiming at your throat ready to let it go

The clientele buy and sell like a pawn shop

Smokin' weed and bamboo, sippin' on private stock

I diddy bop and make them titties pop

Get that h-i cus c simeon got risin stock/