This is a song about "Kids with guns"

With my guns your get antiquated

And get a hall pass for this class-act shit

It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with

Welcome back to class, bitch, grab on to your glasses

Guess they ran out of options

Artillery weak with guns

Is that sweat coming of your brow, think you can play with the guns click clack blow

Where to begin when love ends on a bad noteor being honest make the trust grow

And to pretend as if 2pac is not these dudes intentions

Never was a thug just infatuated with guns

With no guns and no shields

Everything ain't what it seems