This is a song about "Shooting meth"

Watching for hollow-tip shots

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

I'll make you deaf with my musical meth

I'm godbless, i'm success so fuck stress

Eatin nubo dishes, with my soul food princess

All of this fuss for heisenberg's blue meth

But damn it...who'd ever mix up ciroc, powder, n' sum' meth?//

Ain't better, you better rebel, smell cheddar and shells

Went out shooting, here's my retribution/

Women'll sell they soul just to buy some attention

Like fudd snooping, shooting for ducks.

Don’t let me talk about the deal ones

Good rhythm, bad women and better lyrics

A shooting range with bullet limits

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

Shooting missiles that where hooting whistles!