This is a song about "Weed guns murder"

Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

By the water, au revoir to my audience

Fake people who waste space and shot guns

We bustin' like shot guns

These chalance give me balance

Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons

I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Except ill be commitin lyrical murder

Guess they ran out of options

But i dont carry guns

Now im thinking rapping weed, rapping weed

I can always go home and look down my street

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Without the sound of guns