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letra de lunch meat - pudgy

[verse: pudgy]
woah, trip me outside
come on, [?], it’s the lunch tape
take your seats while i start makin’ these sandwiches
you already know, well come here baby
uh, check - [?]
no need to inquire (inquire)
mr. pudgy is fire, while i’m here to retire (fire)
all these wacko rappers who is never inspired
yes, you’re on your last leg
guess who needs a new tire (yeah, you)
yes, i’m better than all my competitors (uh, uh, uh)
i’m seeking out the predators (the predators)
while checkin’ babies’ temperatures
you say nothing new to me
you’ll hop on any wave you see (any wave)
that’s [common sense if you?] sit back patiently
waitin’ for my moment to strike gracefully
i lift my fingers as you hear the drop of a mic
as we go tit for tat, you know homie don’t play that
ain’t no time for chit-chat, this wonderful boss’ll
stop you feeding ’em kitties kit-kats
as your bars fall flat on the ears of the crowd
i will make ’em go wild
and i promise i’ll make [hov?] proud
’cause it’s the lunch tape, baby (check, check, check)
(check ’em out, baby)
(check ’em out, check ’em out, baby)

- pudgy

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