This is a song about "Rifle"

Like it's trifle, my skills are precise like a rifle how a sniper might hold

I see the addict, the alcoholic with golden flask out cold,

Like the olympics these youngins just won another metal

I consider my flow a malignant rifle, and strip survival

Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the bible

Y'all know the cycle, i wrote it psycho, lyrics like a loaded rifle,

Heartbroken obviously, there's not tomorrow

But its too late nigga im letting them rifle shots go

Rifle from the wall just call me chekhov,

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

Twenty inch nail rifle

Lady at the frank stand will

Ok now everythings wonderful

Cause she made love to my rifle

I'm paranoid like someone holds a sniper rifle just waiting,

So, suicide i perceive, before i slide on that ring