This is a song about "Bring out the guns"

New rolls royce, royce, yeah i'm all that

Guns in the waistband, blunts in the pocket

Without the sound of guns

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

It's not my fault you decided to bring these demons out,

Bein' a woman, a black woman at that, no doubt

And i bet you all them letters in your mailbox waiting

Happy until their casket gets closed, i'mma go out guns blazing

Kids out on the corner cold, bring em in to your heated flat

Spit that raw shit, y'all some talkative condoms, fall back

Baby, you got that super bass

This psychopath will bring the wrath

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,

And all these rappers know just where i'm bout to go so catch me then