This is a song about "Shooting shit"

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

Small town guy, spend my time shooting hoops

I done lost too many homies to this motherfuckin' game

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

Baby, you're the inspiration of this precious song

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

Im going on a shooting spree

Must be something you want me to see

Jumped off the porch when i was like six

A shooting range with bullet limits

Treating us like animals shooting us like antelope

Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote

Billy-club chainsaw, i’m coming through their front door

Takes one to the back, gets up but their shooting more!