This is a song about "Shotgun"

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

And walk through shotgun homes filled with bullet holes,

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

I'll probably re-visit those old shotgun homes and trailer parks,

And thats also where i'd get my pump action shotgun

Okay you dancing drinking on your last one

That's why i'm dropping poems from my southern shotgun home,

Though surrounded by an entourage, i feel like i'm alone

You told me life would never, ever, ever get this perfect

Except that i got one along with the shotgun rounds around my belt

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

See i live up in a shotgun home, niggas think they're prophet jones,

I've never forgotten the orphan who grabbed the shotgun 'n' shot

I'm optimistic like playing keeno with all that you got

Thank god for the free thinkers, for you keep me in mind

So he runs through his building, leaves the shotgun behind,