This is a song about "Guns and shooting cops"

That god isn't finished with me yeti feel his hand on my brain

Loopy, asking 'why didn't they choose me?' and started shooting in pain

Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons

Not caring for lives, only profit and guns

Fuck them hoes and the cops

So she kisses the stars

Im starting to see guns and knives

Then put it into sex drive

Pull out guns and let 'em spark

No gimmick: real time, real heart

Half my peers, they're stretched for years

And my guns are directors

Turn it upside down and open your legs if you're real cold

And truth be told, only shooting stars can break the mold

Lucifer's shooting ya, crucified on crucifixes and the awful lot,

You gotta look at reality, understand that shit so you don't get caught