This is a song about "Gun control"

Look out below, there is no inventory control

One of the coldest, the gracing on that pole

My goal is going gold with out selling my soul

She lashes at me, out of control,

And control this shit yourself dog.

I got kicked off, i used to shit talk

See i know when the harsh reality take it's toll

I’m waking up the whole game, maintaining control,

Do you get brains, did you make the honor roll

I’m waking up the whole game, maintaining control,

They'll have to rename this one

Your best lines are a rubber band gun

Y'all know justin, his flow on control,

When im dont gettin brains then i honor roll

Just a new system of control.

It's apart of her goal