This is a song about "Beretta"

Holes in they sweater, from my lyrical beretta

Is never that's equivalent to me and sarah

My mouth is like a lyrical beretta, my words are bullets

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

Then bring your big bad ass to california, cause we ain't hard to find

Go run and hide before i let the beretta guide through your mind

Money goes away with shots from a black beretta

And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era