This is a song about "Jacob bream"

Come to my show you'll see/sea sickness no boats or yachts

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

If we thinking success is only measured by your money

And who woulda thought or knew? out of the fish in the sea,

Give us this day, our daily bread

Musical shots at your head,

Bass drop, low end is a gut punch

When my competition ain't much

And please never disrespect my set

Another victim dissin the towel head/

You wife ain't shit, we g'd her

Money runs like a golden river

Pants shitting, scared, barely even shifting, i'm as sick as fourty children

And there's something you ain't seeing like i block your vision

Catch you up on places i've been

I need one white coffin