This is a song about "Shooting niggas down"

A shooting range with bullet limits

I’m so fly i don’t even got wings

Gangsters robbin', shooting back, mama's sobbing pedals,

Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks

Like fudd snooping, shooting for ducks.

So i can understand police victims

Shooting down moms and wives

Dc's here, this is where crack lives

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

Watching for hollow-tip shots

I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love

Say aaah and open wide, im shooting projectiles

Small town guy, spend my time shooting hoops

Flyer then the rest of them, still got my nike boots

The twin towers fell

Now i'm shooting blanks but hell.