This is a song about "Guns up"

Well rick james, maury jane

Guns in the trunk, aks mayne

I skip to places, smiling faces, while you fucking walk

And the door is unlocked, i wake up gagged by russians with guns cocked,

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

As far as these bars, my flow life sentence

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

Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles

Artillery weak with guns

These chalance give me balance

Remember my guns like a mic,

Whips ain't shit but my kicks look sick

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

Wait, don't they sell the terrorist's guns?

So live it up until the end maybe you should use guns

Real enough to admit i listen to people's opinions