This is a song about "My rhymes are hot point a gun into ya asshole"

My rhymes are a trapdoor that accidentally traps

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

Raise the gun... to this virgin nun i point this gun,

Riding around without a fuck given

I'll give ya post traumatic stress disorder as my rhymes kill ya

But instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada

Now i grab my gun and blast my rhymes

Before we see it's hard to live

Life's tough, ya hot some patches that are rough

I've got muslims calling on jesus

So i'mma talk about a little bit of that

My lines are hot, isnt it? yours are just the opposite

Stop pretending like ya absurd words are sending a hot shipment,

Waiting on mom to bring me the aspirin from a trampoline jump

Free throws of money, bet you can’t block

Im so cold but my rhymes are red hot