This is a song about "The dog eats my food"

And all women who had light features, see

I got food in the fridge, i got food in the pantry,

Treat my lyrics like the fucking food you eat and i'll keep you,

Put it all on the table, do it like a menu

We gotta search our soul to find out, what we're after

Lickin fast-food wrappers, the cap-stone capper

I'm awfully dressed, i'm quiet with my food that's on the tray.

That's why they salty every where i swear its like a snow day

Fresh to death, when i step, you can hear momma's cry

Barack obama comin' this way, he eats all the pie

Yeah, you swear your girl is faithful; everything ain't what it seems

The kind this kid eats/hit you wit fists n feet /2 ur lips n cheeks/

You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams

The bitch is too fucking lousy, the fat bitch eats brownies