This is a song about "Guns blood money hoes"

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

Heneesee, makes me think my enemy is getting close

Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

Wayne told me that and that's just how it goes

See me i'm into hoes that's into hoes

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

But this ain't physics or rocket science

Without the sound of guns

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Remember my guns like a mic,

She got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick

But i dont carry guns

That was my influence