This is a song about "Jacob bream"

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled

I got a watch wit all gold,

I got that powder, i got that white

Them people see my good side

Cause i'm now, livin' this life with foolproof doubts

Look how we going to get out of this cook house

Im always on the yard like farmers

All white boys live white collar and there scholars,

We'll cook ya for lunch and serve you at red lobster,

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

Verses sweep my mental urges bleak

Admire your style and your physique

Signing off brother ali, sincerely yours

Got them bomb ass drugs cause i follow all the cook books

I never gave a fuck and that's what they love

I aim like i hold the gold compass, a gold atlas.