| Now check out that big old boy
|
| He don’t really think we do, we got options
|
| But a lot to pop and stop stopping, just watch 'em
|
| He’s a lot to watch, he probably didn’t block 'em
|
| Never did take my shirt off in public, think he never had a girl
|
| Then he’d jerk off and love it, eating ice cream
|
| I been nightly eating my Cheez Whiz
|
| You ain’t got all the answers
|
| Sway got to fit a bit or pick the chicks to get with
|
| Spit quick and I’m fat with a big dick
|
| No neck and I never had a picknic
|
| Treat 'em like a prostitute like I’m Slick Rick
|
| Pig
|
| I don’t be pigging out with sis away from me
|
| I cut his liver out just get away from me
|
| You ain’t got nothing to say to me
|
| Think that you cut me and I’ll bleed out gravy
|
| It’s crazy the way that they view you
|
| You think you sexy and flexing and they see right through you
|
| Don’t look in the mirror, now do you?
|
| Cause what you see ain’t what you pulled up in
|
| I go «Boy I’m thick»
|
| Think I’m a pig in a wig while I’m digging your bitch
|
| If I start I don’t quit
|
| You gon' be seeing her leaving and she screaming «Aye Krizz»
|
| Yeah, fat boy lit, talk shit
|
| I don’t politic with dudes
|
| Eat your food, swallow it
|
| I don’t care about your blue checks
|
| I don’t follow it
|
| And I came before the mess
|
| Cause it ain’t 'bout modeling
|
| Watch out
|
| I’m already dead
|
| Somebody try to kill me put the bullets in the bread
|
| I ate it up
|
| I’m already cold
|
| Somebody told me no fingers in the sugar bowl
|
| I ate it up
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| I’m all fucked up, aye
|
| Fuck the calculator that’s counting all of the carbs
|
| My counselor said to stop cause it’s bound to fuck with my heart
|
| I just had a Big Mac, now I’m downing it with a pop
|
| No one knows if I don’t get no sodium, that’s withdrawal
|
| I’m a fat fuck
|
| I need mayonnaise in a major way
|
| Always keep a couple bags of chips on layaway
|
| Lost a bunch of weight cause I ate no food
|
| Now it’s all coming back like deja vu
|
| I hate the fucking mirror and it hates me too
|
| But I’m blessed motherfucker, I should say achoo
|
| Every buffet lineup, I’m the first they feed
|
| Hurts to breath, worst you see when I merk the beat
|
| Every Thanksgiving they calling me Turkules
|
| That bad, I need lap band surgery
|
| I’m always going for seconds like certainly
|
| And every time I leave the crib I bring desert with me
|
| The fuck is against you
|
| I can’t seem to kick it
|
| I’m so fucking fooled that I can’t clean the dishes
|
| I swear to God being this fat’s my religion
|
| I get off the stage and go back in the kitchen
|
| Like fuck diabetes I have all the symptoms
|
| Well put down the burgers
|
| I can’t they’re delicious
|
| I tuck in my gut when they asking for pictures
|
| So shorty come over, we’re having a picknic
|
| I’m fucking over it
|
| Yeah, fat boy lit, talk shit
|
| I don’t politic with dudes
|
| Eat your food, swallow it
|
| I don’t care about your blue checks
|
| I don’t follow it
|
| And I came before the mess
|
| Cause it ain’t 'bout modeling
|
| Watch out
|
| I’m already dead
|
| Somebody try to kill me put the bullets in the bread
|
| I ate it up
|
| I’m already cold
|
| Somebody told me no fingers in the sugar bowl
|
| I ate it up
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| I’m all fucked up, aye
|
| Aye, bloodshot, you can tell I’m lit
|
| You probably think because I’m fat I smell like shit
|
| You probably think because I’m big my bitch ain’t bad
|
| Found out she is, now bitch, your bitchass mad, oh
|
| I bet you think you digging for gold
|
| Nah bitch cause the sheriff spit shivering cold
|
| So froze you would think I spit the shit in the snow
|
| On top of that, you should know I’ma hit it and go
|
| I’m really smooth, mix me with your ridicule
|
| Eat a bag of edibles, bitch that’s what I’m finna do
|
| I’m all firing up, this shit is killing you
|
| A fat boy but I swing dick like I’m a skinny dude
|
| Give me some pizza and I’m fucking it up
|
| Outside the club getting my dick sucked in a truck
|
| Light girls with a thin waist and junk in the trunk
|
| And I like my Waffle House smelling covered in chuck
|
| Fucking hourglass-shaped models, bottle full of sand man
|
| Meanwhile you fucking a fat girl and a grandam
|
| Three girls hit me popping pussy on a handstand
|
| And I’m taking all three home, that’s a grand slam
|
| Yeah, fat boy lit, talk shit
|
| I don’t politic with dudes
|
| Eat your food, swallow it
|
| I don’t care about your blue checks
|
| I don’t follow it
|
| And I came before the mess
|
| Cause it ain’t 'bout modeling
|
| Watch out
|
| I’m already dead
|
| Somebody try to kill me put the bullets in the bread
|
| I ate it up
|
| I’m already cold
|
| Somebody told me no fingers in the sugar bowl
|
| I ate it up
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| Watch what you say
|
| I’m all fucked up, aye |