This is a song about "Aim"

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

I suggest you do it, and aim for the stars

Masturbation seems to be primary aim of this nation,

She gon have a baby then flee from her education

Aim bullets straight at your dome

So i guess you think you grown

With hugs and kisses, valentine cards and birthday wishes

We're the same, i aim to separate you from this

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus

Make music for the masses, but still aim for the bases,

Straight conch got a nigga feeling seasick, oh shit

All these haters get aim- itis evrey time i spit

But the industry's a lot like, a crap game

Its my trigger finger just slit when i aim

I aim to cause strain until your cranium busts,

Mixing potion from african forests