This is a song about "Shot him make his head splat"

She gon have a baby then flee from her education

I mean he got chased by cops, while they all shot tasers at him

And take his daughter i bought her make him witness dirty slaughter

Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are

I make your head spin round,

I just might throw a big amount

Go get the money out the safe

His conscience can take him to his grave

Its cold as shit in this booth

Make him inhale the gas fumes

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

With the wheels fallin off i shoot thru the windows make him crash into his mommas curtains

And i got them gold bottles, first place

His conscience can take him to his grave

Beating him over the head with the telephone

Getting brain when i’m talking on the phone