This is a song about "Aim"

Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute

Housing projects, middle class gangsters, aim and spark it,

Your body's right as rain

Ill minded imma take aim,

I've mastered this ask of me, my raff ain't practice

I aim like i hold the gold compass, a gold atlas.

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

I suggest you do it, and aim for the stars

Or aim for the head instead,

Is not far from white girls with big bread

They used to call me the future

Better aim than a shooter,

Sky is no limit and beyond am gonna aim/

Givin' 'em a wet, welcome to the house of pain