This is a song about "Rifles"

Metaphors hit hard as glocs, rifles

Chanel slippers on my bitches like you go love

80 holes in your shirt, there: your own jamaican clothes

When i blast, rifles will be striking volts like lightning bolts,

Loaded rifles, dealers ready to take lead straight,

We would like to call this an appreciation tape

Defending your kingdom’s borders against us with knives and rifles,

Are you afraid of a thug? and have you ever made love

Trifle, stifle 'em like rifles from a psycho, i'm ill,

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Into they fuckin' rifles they like just done won the lottery,

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves

Now he loads gats and runs with the sick crews with rifles,

Defending your kingdom’s borders against us with knives and rifles,

But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love