This is a song about "Shotguns"

It’s weird shawty, your wares showing me dead wrong

Lock it, make sure, that all of your shotguns are drawn,

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

Like explosive bangs from a sawed-off shotguns cough,

Lock your doors like tupac shakur, got shotguns drawn,

Throw her slightly to the right, so dyke i'm kinda wrong

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

I remember shotguns and modest working class homes,