This is a song about "Bowl of fish"

Your flow is synonymous to what's in my toilet bowl

Meetin' fuckin' hoes on the road, it's takin its toll

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

With sales of fish scales from triple beams i gleam

Getting me back, i got other options, plenty of fish in the sea/

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money

Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich

With scents of fish, i'll hook you wit my damn hooks, bitch,

Born brit slice the competition up like fish

Damn, they wanna label me a menace

You are a little tuna fish

The look of no hope on my niggas' faces

But pussy and patron will make you feel alright

Smoke another bowl, forget it by the end of the night.

I'm a g, and this is something you can't see

Your face looks like an old bowl of spaghetti/