This is a song about "Shooting murder"

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

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

Except ill be commitin lyrical murder

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

Small town guy, spend my time shooting hoops

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

They will always try whether its murder

Stir up all these feelings inside of her

The red album, lil red shortie, you can't touch her

We thinkin you got em and going murder

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

Like fudd snooping, shooting for ducks.

Shooting disses like bullets, spray and pray.

Me and my homieskick it like everyday