This is a song about "Shooting up the clocks"

In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die

The ball in my fingers. i be shooting threes outside all day with my hittas and i

I'm shooting at the bullshit,

You be on that stalker shit

I'd rather you tell me to hit you later

Shooting ink upon the looseleaf like a lazer

I came through with diseased semen on my pen

Why am i back to shooting up again?

Never gon' see the day that i ain't got the upper hand

We avoid the truth when it's shooting at us at point blank

She say she want a diamond, lisa raye welcome to the player's club

These bars hitting like bullets and your skullys what i'm shooting up

And truth be told, only shooting stars can break the mold

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold