This is a song about "Pistol on deck"

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like cartman found kenny, dead

Part of me ought to be a ship cause i keep her on deck,

But my words are weapons, my pistol pistol

Your two lips they smell like tulips so official

Ms body burned onto the sun deck,

That i just haven't came up with a name yet

Stacks on deck, bitch we stackin money to the ceiling

Any young nigga with visions when he's sleeping

But my words are weapons, my pistol pistol

To make karma come faster than she normally will

And when it come to tight games i'm o.t. with the bitches

Hand up on my pistol grip, quickly sick 'em, it is,

Unions they always on deck

I respect that you don't know yet