This is a song about "Bowl cut"

So either you dont believe in a nigga dreams

Cut me like bacon i'll cut you up like leeks

Out in the district they selling water and buying pistols

You're rhymes are as straight as a bowl fill of skittles

Until we learn to pray, keep our families in shake

Finna grab a bowl countin bites im gonn take

Your bitch, she ugly, i kick her out the bed

I brought the bowl of tomato soup onto the deck

I win the bowl, pass the bowl and light up

Shit, they'll put the dogs in the truck

At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes

And separately i'd like a bowl of doritos

Your face looks like an old bowl of spaghetti/

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three