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