This is a song about "Bowl of jeannette o s"

Bro's got grudges for money its funny they loved me but rushed to the cold

Wielding a potato at that the end of the rainbow with a pot o' gold

Cause now it's on for you and me, all i can see

Your face looks like an old bowl of spaghetti/

With a home girl, best friend, lover, all that

You based your life off of 50's shit

They are all good like the best bowl of porridge.

Ain't nobody checking for your garbage

Scratch my back all of that it get s me crazed

Don't take more than i can get to prevent waste

I refuse to be another being on this earth

Of errors, exact-o knife receptors reaching sectors

Now there's bits of her floating in my cereal bowl

Fuckin' voices follow me, emulatin' like twitter roll

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

Saeed alisha i miss you, god bless my brother’s soul