This is a song about "Safety supplies"

Kill em all, fuck em all. hip-hop really is alive

Why do people eat up the shit he supplies?

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

In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see

I need supplies to make everything alright

Even my critics are saying a nigga name right

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

Lately i've been drawing some safety maps

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

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

I don't believe in a safety, i get a little bit racy

If you see us in the club, we'll be actin' real nice

Cause i aint going down fo some bullshit, deal yo supplies

You were the safety on my gun, you pulled me through it

Look in the scope, my people still a target