This is a song about "Talking shit at lunch time about me and begging for attention"

For local and national attention,

I guess i'm leftwich cause i still get to win

And when you up in wet willies, you ain't even thinking

And talking about experience in living (or bitching)

We'll cook ya for lunch and serve you at red lobster,

Hella proper, my garment is propeller of chopper

Its time for the future and time for a new me"

And all women who had light features, see

I thank you for the attention you give me and everything else

I'm the c.e.o. of diplomat records, i sign myself

For talking shit about the bitch

Uhh, so why ain't i go to college

Leave you crippled and begging for the battering to be relieved

Ain't no nigga touching my style, it got a force field

All you're talking about is gay shit, and fucking a man.

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