This is a song about "Yoga pants and tuna"

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

And pants tight please be a dyke, cuz im a freakin freakazoid its like my

That shit was ludicrous/ her pussy smelt like tuna-fish

I am olubowale, the answer to this

To the same plant, and the same pants

I got a green bag with them blue strands

Your pants get hit with cancer

I pipe in and one night her

As far as being hard, i feel i’m somewhere near medusa

Funeral staff n' tubas, cadavers packaged like tuna

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Two for the pads, and two to take down your momma's pants

Attached like pants keepin casual

Got to the end of the tunnel

Attached like pants keepin casual

As i light one for ill will