This is a song about "Jacob bream"

And getting money is the song i sing

And only one silver chain to be flashing.

That's why i make my raps deep like the whole fucking atlantic ocean!

Mr. i-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you what they callin' him

You already know you're dead

The ear worms in my head,

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

Sterling silver falls like brittle gold.

Something like serena mixed with trina, have you seen her

And served it to the public on a silver platter

I don't know what ya'll heard, but hip hop ain't dead

Tired of hearin' these voices in my head

I dreamt of a gold watch and a gold chain

I am marvin with mind, but i listen to wayne

I got rhymes for days nigga i'm cold

I got a watch wit all gold,