This is a song about "Shooting stars"

Stars become fiction, bars become prisms

Trying to get back to this thing called love

Lets talk about the cars y'all got

Stars interlock, faster then a shot

Why am i back to shooting up again?

What the fuck happened to rap when

Shooting missiles that where hooting whistles!

Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

My dream is to chill with all of the stars

A shooting range with bullet limits

They gettin chips, they flippin bricks

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Everyone has heard of the stars