I'm the Jack in Wendy's box when even Donald couldn't mack her. She dunk-those-nuts, quick like sonic, you should check-her. Got star bucks, yet underground like subway trains, like I ran up in white castles and burglarized the kings. I'm a beast with these beauties, watch me talk-to-Bell. Got exotic chicks, pollo tropical, Johnny rock this shit, call me Papa John. Say peace to you hut, my mansion can take you on if you're ever quizzed-know ladies feel my shit. Lay 'em down like dominos, then dick-fill-a-chick; Long John Silver, hot enough to have Kentucky fried; I burned Denny, Arby, Mr. Chang, and five guys at a time. Chilli' with some dairy queens who let me handle their breasts. Get down like I'm tryin'a dig a panda express. "That was a stretch" ...that's what she said. Vegetarian, but still she gobble on my meat's head. Said they fishy, so-she ordered me to serve 'em raw and cold; easy, 'cause I'm slick as butter; it makes sense I'm on a roll. Tryin'a catch-up musta' made-you haters relish how I spit; freshly wrap around you wieners like a condiment. Oh shit, I'm glad you'll rewind it, and if you ain't yet it's about damn time bitch. 'Cause thats the first rhyming couplet without food. Spicy rap like Chipoltle, of course I make you drool…I got a lot of greenery, cheese (cheddar) and dough, but I'm so hot I turned it into bread then into toast. And don't you think that I deny my mommy feeds the green, one day I hope to give it back I got more servings than I need. That's iambic octameter, go scan my poet's scheme: the Bard's pentameter, plus a bar of protein. Nah, fuck it yo, bigger: steroids and creatine. this is phat, fuck a diet, I don't mean it to be lean. FIlling boston with my cream, krispy fresh, fuck the cost. I'ma buy it for her then I'll brake that kit-kat off. Trustworthy, virgins, they invite me in (I could take one everyday like a vitamin). RUDE, and too witty for those who hate on it. The only plate you could serve me on is tectonic. Flowing, and I just keep going and going; it's crazy, it makes you wan me to glaze you, don't-it? Vanilla fella, but I bite and y'all just bark a lot; send my dogs at you pussies, make the cops chalk a lot. Damn girl, you smoking good, can you please pass the bowl. You can be my royal highness, let me make your castle roll. I go against the flow, something like a salmon, and show a wide pallet for the rhymes (watch me slant it..). People are demanding, I pop you corny rappers. I'm sweet, but hard like candy, you're the surrounding plastic. Born into cheddar, and I know it's not fair; I'ma try to make the poor rich like Goldy Locks' bears. You should be scared, the way I'm chewing the mic; I'm a terror like a trillion computer chip bites. Geek to the beat, y'all hating it are bitches. Watch me toast these hoes, the flows hot salsa y'alls is getting dipped in. "Damn Jack The Ripper" ladies wanna pay me, but I say that if you get to know me, it'll be free to lay me. Don' read too deep into these sweet as fruit punches; I'm just getting my funny-on, y'all should eat it up like your lunches. Munch it. You're welcome to bite it, I'm the only one who could write it. I am the tightest, touch it like Midas, sweet as white sugar (despite all the whiteness). Mikey likes it, and he hates you, I guess that's life. I'm all over this beat like white on rice. I'm young and got money, Wayne should sign me twice. Sweet lines stick like honey and my cream could get my ice sprinkled like spice. Girls flock to me 'cause they know: even if they, scream when they cum, it'll still be a cheery-o. Then hunny I nut, up in your gut, but notice I waited 'till after. (Hopefully that cream pie won't grow up into a disaster…) Inappropriate, don't encourage me with laughter. I'm fresh, got this zip locked, I'm a seran-rapper. Deliver what you order, strait to your front door bra. Milk 'em for what they're worth, my lines are like coke, get to snortin'. Grill 'em like Forman, rock weller than Norman. I gormet fry then poach, you luke-warm them. I lay her, try to steer clear of the eggs, but I'm all over the breasts, the thigh, and the legs. Sweeter, taller and smarter than runts and nerds. And I ain't scared of beef, I can slaughter a herd. Got these chicken heads bobbin', corn on the cob slobin', my nob get's to breaking their jaws and gob-stopping. Cracka please, Snickers can not feed how hungry that I be. You should read these lyrics shitting on you like diarrhe….UH! Yeah bitch, I'm ready for the test. Big mack rap, (now I'm letting y'all digest). Ciao/chow/chao(s).