This is a song about "Gats weaves"

About disaster in the world and

They said show me ya gats, ya cash, ass ya smashed

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth

Taking the shots with, the gats from a racist obnoxious youth,

When we meet you with gats, better find your asylum

I’m popping now, every other hour, paparazzi come

You got reason to brag

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Blazing gats at flaming fags like british dudes with cigarettes,

Probably seen meaner bars probably in the feds