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Artist: Speak
Album:  Inside Out Boy
Song:   Brain Food (What's for Dinner?)
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Speak]
I used to wanna rhyme like Black Star
Now all I wanna do is sell black Tar
Heroin to white girls with them black cards
Bitch! I told you one day I would be a rap star
Not the type to be concerned with being fresh to death
But the type to post in my garage all night cookin meth
Crystals in my pocket I'm a science fair winner
The smell of beef and rotten teeth, hey momma what's for dinner?
Trick or treat, let 'em tweak, obsessively I will tweet
See the scabs across my face, what the fuck is wrong with Speak?!
Shut the door I'm watchin porn, it's my choice to be alone
See the girl fuck a whore, just leave me be, to each his own
Every rappers got they on set of problems
And I'm the Jew sent from hell who really wants to rob 'em
Well what the fuck would I do with some Nikes and a snapback
You lames are walkin ATM's and I'm expecting cash back
LSD flashbacks hit me like a flash flood
+2 Cold Scorpio+ fuckin with that +Flash Funk+
In my trunk I got a Mexican family
Moving weight is passé, we into human traffickin
Everybody's panickin the worlds about to end
And 2012 is comin up I'm lookin for some head
Shit I'm tryna get some face, I'm tryna get some mouth
On the couch my momma gave to me the day that I moved out
Now you'll see what happens when this birdie leaves the nest
Im droppin shit from up above so please enjoy the mess
This is for my ex's each and every one
Half are pregnant half are married all are lookin pretty dumb
But maybe it was better that we ended when we did
Cause I probably woulda killed myself if you had my kid
I am not the father, I am not the son
I am Inside Out Boy, this here is my gun