What's that?
Well, those are apple rings, this is pancake batter, and that's sausage
Hey, that might be pretty good
Pretty good? Wait till you try it, there's a batch all ready
Don't compare me to my parents, my choices are my own
Cooked 'em up in my cauldron
That's where all my money's blown
And the potion made me do it
Goddamn, what was in it?
Your rapper boyfriend's tongue and a carton of Popeye's spinach
Repped the Boro' in the Baltics
I tried to be the nicest
Leave me stuck in between with an identity crisis
And I might just bite dust, dick around and try to write up
A dollar for a date just to compliment my type but
You throw out that slut word, that's so old news
You boys are easier to use than my Velcro shoes
So who's coming to chill with me and caterpillar later?
Mix somethin' with the shisha to attract you gaters
You tater tots on my block, don't throw like I thought
Talking 'bout your third eye like these rap robots
And sorry, I'm done, cocking my gun
Showing off and throwing shade 'cause its fun
So listen my son, hold your tits when you run
Try to keep up and don't cry when it's done
I'm sweet, maple syrup on the beat
Force feed you sass pancakes every day of the week
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
Pancake
