This is a song about "Son of a gun"

I pop one, you pop one

Till the baddest one killed with a gun.

So tell me i ain't shit, go and embellish it a bit

Sick twisted prick, sick sadistic son of a biscuit

Got hu women frostburg women

Two thousand one born a son of a gun

In the car with a gun,

Mami... she open, she open

An eighth of grape ape hella joints to the head got my eyes all varsity red

Of willing to aim, a gun, to your forehead, its not fun, to wish you were dead.

Just give me a carrot gun

Boss broke, spouse choke, blouse open

Your best lines are a rubber band gun

Killing our dreams, stealing our vision

Homosexuality's a sin, but that's dirty son?

Beautiful music, painting pictures that be my vision