|i came here to tell you my loinz have been shakin'
|my hips are gyratin', my hitachi's vibratin'
|when i think about steaksauce from shoulders to fingers
|leave it on till it lingers like top 40 pop singers
|lick some beans off my thigh, i'll shoot my load in your eye
|you should savor the taste of my sweet poonanny pie
|i carry it around with me in a bag that says versace
|along with my hitachi and some soy or teriyaki
|need some salt with that thing! a cock with no custard
|like ketchup with no mustard (tight assholes make me flustered!)
|bitches shittin' ma dickin' ma hittin' and bewitchin' ma
|don't need a phd to know that you've been forfeitin' ma
|i need a ass with these fries...and some big-ass lips would be nice!!!!
|i had a dream last night that i tried to take a bite
|of 40 steaks lined up in a tantalizing line
|i woke up in a cold sweat, my silk sheets were soakin' wet
|thought about goin' to sleep, but then my pussy i pet!
|with raging thoughts of burger pattties, burger fucking leather daddies
|smoking fatties ratty catties thigh spreading apparati
|my voice crax when i see greasy hands approaching me
|i sniff your fingers one by one to find out what seasoning
|you been lickin' off yo plate before tryna pop this coochie
|musical youth passin' the dutchie, your palms cold like toffuti cutie
|thank you baby, for suckin' me off my fucking cunt is your trough
|now shut up , turn your head and cough
|i love the way you treat me, now chew swallow and eat me
|i'm cookin' crack on the stove to knock out my frontal lobe
|and get my mind off the perversion that's makin' my eyes roam
|to bagz of fast food instead of well endowed dudes
|tryna cop cool attitutes, git my fat ass in the nude
|bitches tell me that i might die cuz everything i eat is f-fried
|but all i want is some french fries
|and some of that hot apple pie.