This is a song about "Guns and crime"

With no guns and no shields

I said believe in your dreams

Dead man beside em and he takes his guns and mags

Dope sneakers and dope speakers for fly cats

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

Their guns supplied by governments, and they get paid to cock it,

The richest place on earth

And my guns are directors

My entendres be tumblin’ while you niggas lack balance

If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns

So if you open up your heart i’ll give you mine

We're once again in the cycle of poverty and crime,

As far as these bars, my flow life sentence

Fake people who waste space and shot guns

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,