This is a song about "Shoot your tires"

Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed

I'm an animal so don't contest / shoot lyrics at your chest vest

Fuck that job been around that block

Shoot your self-esteem, put you on the spot

So now i say goodbye to the old me, it's already gone

I'll shoot those lyrics out your palm, never been doubted wrong,

If this was c.o.d, ill shoot your ass every time you re-spawn

When big lips is in the attic armed with an addict's arm

Myers, liars, try us, bar fires, slash ya car tires,

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

One time for the girls with the right shoes

Want to shoot your rhymes because there an abuse

Shotgun in a satchel in the back of the tires

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve