This is a song about "Shooting kids"

Sb nike's, with the grey box

Like me, when i'm shooting for the stars/

Send him the voicemail cause we all the way gone

Little kids and crack hustlers shooting 'em with nines drawn,

I'm shooting at the bullshit,

Bet i'm heavy with that

Toffee, pecan, licorice, boy you're so beautiful

While im shooting at my rivals with a a rifle,

Now of days people will be shooting,

Hey you, what the fuck you think you doing

Good kids make bad grown ups

Like fudd snooping, shooting for ducks.

My nomo could be found in stores but the jersey only nomo got

Lucifer's shooting ya, crucified on crucifixes and the awful lot,

The twin towers fell

Now i'm shooting blanks but hell.