All these accusations, I’m robbin’ tables of crustaceans...
Maybe true I ain’t no weet bix-eatin’ wuss
My go-to be two lobsters, 17 oyster shooters and a baby octopus
But shell in the oysters and dem lobsters had too much sun
So I’m on the run—ain’t no way dat worth 621
Head to the sea since on land they be lookin’
Still…