This is a song about "Aim"

All y'all niggas taking shots, just adjust your aim,

Don’t want nothing from a nigga; he all kinds of lame

Too drunk to aim, so i might accidentally

I tell em "honey, i no cher" i'm so sunny

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

Are you afraid of a thug? and have you ever made love

And trying to start today with arguments

I aim to cause strain until your cranium busts,

Its my trigger finger just slit when i aim

Girl lemme get them ooh aahs then i gotta catch my plane

Hand my ass a gun and i prolly couldn't even aim right

This my little brother on my mother's side, our father died

Tried to warn the little nigga either stop or die

If you do then ima have to aim and fry

Cause i'm thinking me and you could get along

Email too, facebook, aim, everything gone