This is a song about "Gun instinct"

Ironin' you niggas now it's time to starch the shit

Coming for my rightful place its just my instinct

And i doubt that ever change

My gun always in range

Till the baddest one killed with a gun.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for

Garrote roulette or simply gun her

I told him get his 9 and run

Two thousand one born a son of a gun

Look at you, this is the minimal i could diss you, criminal instinct like a scam/

It was hard to quitstarted out drinkin’ forties moved to harder shitgoddamn, now i’ma grown man

From blunt smoke to gun smoke

Where rules get followed

Raise the gun... to this virgin nun i point this gun,

Hard to move on when you always regret one