This is a song about "Brown bowl"

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

Fuckin' voices follow me, emulatin' like twitter roll

"beat you so bad, your rhianna i'm chris brown"

Feeling out of place as i whistle a cab down

And separately i'd like a bowl of doritos

The flow cold as a shoulder of a gold diggin hoes

But i didn't cross the line until the bridge hit it, troll

Is bein' broke as fuck, and can't afford a noodle bowl,

Third ward general, young cash money

I'm brown and i like curry

My goal is going gold with out selling my soul

It could wipe niggas clean like a fuking dust bowl.

How beautiful are thou, africa

Bullshit for lunch, brown bag nigga