This is a song about "Jacob bream"

Stampede in this game like the hawks of the sea

Chillin' with homies and family

Tired of hearin' these voices in my head

Your friends say, why we not together yet

Bass drop, low end is a gut punch

Head for breakfast, fuck for lunch

Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes

A smell something fishy its nicola sturgeon urging debates

Can barely walk the city streets

You're a drag queen with european genes

(verse 1 starts when bass starts)

Finish line with the tire marks

You could say i'm friends with fred

I hear it in my head

As fuck like its been sniffing all kinds of crack i got punchlines european

You must have won every pageant in america when you was young