This is a song about "My lady loves my gun"

Gucci & nike, that’s what i call an option

Told my old lady to make me eggs without warning

That my tigress loves his highness

The way she walks and causes a fuss

The gun rests in my hands, pressed up to my head,

Finished mean done, and done mean dead

Just to make it in this broadway lights

Now i grab my gun and blast my rhymes

Gotta make sure we have enough money, cause my lady said "i'm late"

Don't give nobody no coochie while i be locked up state

Lord knows that four door fit eight women

Escaping from my fucken gun

So my cup is full, too much pain to fight

When my gun got a red dot sight.