This is a song about "Iron bowl"

By the bodega, iron under my coat, feeling braver

Shout out to mid-majors, who forget what they major

I win the bowl, pass the bowl and light up

It's not making sense to you right now but

I just ignore that illuminati shit and i just smoke a bowl

I'mma punt the paper over the pussy like a field goal

My goal is going gold with out selling my soul

It could wipe niggas clean like a fuking dust bowl.

Its no different, from the iron ones, your grandfather fought

Brooklyn boy get plenty love, on the turnpike with my philly broad

The pope inside nine capsules, fuck it let's split a roll

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

So the devil that drove in her got in control

Your shit's old, like it's in the toilet bowl