This is a song about "Jacob bream"

I'm a fucking walking paradox, no i'm not

Tonight, i ain't here to party, i came to rock (rock)

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Past all these glass jaws and assholes that claim

Now look another salmon leads the yes campaign

How come he's not in counseling? fucka's loud while he's sound asleep

Wake up every morning taken from my dreams feeling bleak, strength is weak

My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money

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

For shootin' done to you or we're losin' money

I was lost in my thoughts like drifting out to sea

It's ironic cause i always hear you talking about one

Eatin pussy up for dinner man that shit smell like salmon

There's a lot of religions like fish in the sea

Shoutout to maybach music, my logic is getting money