This is a song about "Camped out under the stars"

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

My dream is to chill with all of the stars

I'd shoot for the moon but i'm too busy gazing at stars

Trying to say goodbye to the glamorous chains and cars

Like me, when i'm shooting for the stars/

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

Sitting in the hay while i'm watching all the stars

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

Smack 'em out the park, delete their number, that's my last call

Freddy jumped out from under the car and stabbed me in my eyeball

Fast lives inside shiny cars, buyin' bars out when we stars,

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots

Scii ain't aiming for the stars

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops