This is a song about "My shooters"

We get the bread and the crumbs, young money

That is my wish, my fantasy.

Your mother was a baby boomer i fucked her on a table at hooters and passed her to my shooters

Of town,we were quick to invade,now my lyrics getting bare airplay,im already smart my birds

Got my head in my hands.

I'm popping rubber bands

Riding around with ms. reece and them

Weres my opinion, whats my religion,

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

These my rhymes and my story

My nitty bag, my kitty boost

Now in the courtroom, many men are being doomed

Floor seats at that wizards game

My cash effected, my brain insane,

Break it down one time

My summertime sunshine