This is a song about "Safety supplies"

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

No one hardly escapes from murder, so just put the gun on safety/

Nickel plated chromegot this baby capone lookin like a giant

And i guess someone prayed for us, cause i trashed my safety blunt

And my kick game beyond crazy

Concerned for our safety

Don't need to rationalize realize satans alive bringing unlimited supplies

Ran with the local crew and had a smoke or twoand i realize momma really paid the price

It's whack, it just goes an attacks on the safety measures we lack

Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack

Fresh ass mike's, my rollie on ice

Why do people eat up the shit he supplies?

And its simple as that baby

And solomon supplies the hazy

The fucking safety was on, now who the fuck did this

This ain't mine, it's ricky, but shhh don't tell my bitches