This is a song about "Jacob bream"

Kick back and know yo son set

Before she fuck with ya head

When we ride!it's the imperial serial killer

I look down in the river, no sound in that wet mirror

She don’t give her nigga head

Cop me air ones, hon, lime and red

But like the diamonds and gold

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled

Gold chains, watches and more,

So tell me why are we at war

The numbers burst my head

Ain't finna peak yet

Glad trash bags, throw them in the black bags

Diamond laced gold plated platinum plaques/

This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens

Subtweets lower than sub-bass blasting submarines,