This is a song about "Weed trapping guns"

My niggas out here trapping a lot

We dig the plot and never bury pot

Bitch we trapping, trynna boich, bitch ill make it happen

She got cold feet, my love will be the sun, get it done

I’m callin’ on you ’cause i can’t do it myself

Now i reached you.. now you weep so quit trapping yourself

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Artillery weak with guns

But you don't have a chance

Trapping with the hood rats

Who be puffin that weed

If it's me that catch you, you're fried

We got dat guns and flow

Your last man was semi pro

Remember my guns like a mic,

Ho's, got a list, but i gotta pick