This is a song about "Shooting peopel"

Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for

Shooting ink upon the looseleaf like a lazer

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

Back when we was shooting up cops

So here i am at the store for some chips

A shooting range with bullet limits

Dress pimping-like and toast like less when

Why am i back to shooting up again?

Shooting missiles that where hooting whistles!

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

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

Say aaah and open wide, im shooting projectiles

Words shooting out the barrel faster than excalibur slashes

Everybody listening can suck my dick in spanish

Loopy, asking 'why didn't they choose me?' and started shooting in pain

Sang sittin there kickin it with malcolm, 'til the day came