This is a song about "Jacob bream"

Black clouds circle my weary head

I don’t see them t-dum-izzle as a threat

Phoma is having dinner, while the killer's awaiting by the river

Hightalking back to the screen drinkin' liquorhavin' big dreams of gettin' richer

Raz, fuck jazz, this is rap, increase the bass/

Hey, i get bored so fast that they won’t last

Dead they chose money over your head"

You already know you're dead

My all gold rolly or the

You're fucking with me, nigga

Spiritual, fool's gold

But for long time i had gone cold

You couldn't ship gold records if the only copy you pressed was solid gold

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

Whaddup hoops, tell them it was for the money

You'll be like osama bin laden, dropped in the sea