This is a song about "Gats"

Man it's stupid how we're fascinated with the gats in hand,

Just think of all the people that you knew in the past

And work hard then i pass like steve nash

Some die while gripping the gats they have

A rebel tho, i dont hold my lips

With gats, extra mags and clips

My words are like weapons, gats or poison arrows,

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

The gats got its own mind, with a psycho attached

Celebrate the very day that she get past

Alright we're back again, pop gats again

Gets harder than rihanna when