This is a song about "Cod king"

Or the chick leaving

While drowning you i'm crowned king,

Yeah come holla at your uncle

Im, king of the jungle,

But he don't rule a thing

I'm feelin like a king,

They said im guilty, i ain't get the chance to say im not

'cause weavin' facades is as easy as lobs of feed to the cod

And yea we both coming

Don't be a retard, be a king?

You in the presence of a king

I ain't with the talking

And it smells like burger king.

Flapjack, ooh he bring

I know the road i'm taking

Get ready to hail to the king