This is a song about "Shoot nigga"

They must come with a bible, swine flu, and a pistol

Then for efficiency we shoot up ya funeral

Words are weapons, curse or blessing? i cock and shoot,

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

Shoot bullets right through ya body

Hopin' that my niggas see

Dont come near cos i might just shoot

Pockets probably like fried food

Real bad nigga, ima real mad nigga

They claim it as their own, africa

And shoot the fucking sky,

All you niggas die

I ain't, mad, at cha

Just to come and shoot ya

Shoot for the moon, rocket-launch for stars/

Yeah, tell me about the love of ours