This is a song about "Guns and trappin and hoes"

You say you trappin and you never even sold a drug,

I’m a bad boy, bitch, ask puff, sip ciroc its my last cup

They disregard me, i guess they all got egos

Overused crap about their bitches and hoes,

And i knew that i'd make it out one day!, rappin' or trappin'

That's what i'm screamin when these money hungy cops be chasin

Know just what your worth

And my guns are directors

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most

But if she ain't gonna smoke it ain't gon' happen

I, slap bitchez and toke guns for fun

Fuck them hoes and the cops

And i'm still hurtin over pops

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

Fake people who waste space and shot guns