This is a song about "Talk to the hand"

Did you fix me up, i'm your number 1 fiend

Guess who has the upper hand when its time to feast

I don't even talk to them on the phone again

And it rules everything around them

19. put a hand to the ceiling,

In my drawsring, ring, ring

What the fuck is this asshole here to really talk about

But it never rain in california unless the pistols out

Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, i'm trapped

When they give the grammy in my hand.

I don’t go to work, i talk to the kids

So here i am at the store for some chips

And so the soldiers, gats in hand, send drones to pakistan,

Wanted to go skate, can't, now my day is borin', damn

Either i'm cocking the four or go to the door and slick talk

Baby you summertime fine, i'll let you get on top