This is a song about "Guns gangsters"

But i dont carry guns

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

Little white gangsters, i'd call that phase ironic,

Housing projects, middle class gangsters, aim and spark it,

In that 09' range while i'm singing old tre shit

Guns blazing, hells raising

Your eyes are amazing

I'm trying to grow for you, if you can take love

But i look up to people gangsters geeks and equals

Gangsters walkin' 'round in suits, i bring out the thug in them,

Got the fridgedest temperature on my wrist again

Without the sound of guns

3m's on my new balance

You can't evade my guns,

Hold it..now thank you for silence