This is a song about "American cuisine"

Double-m g up, we up, y'all just relax

Burning american flags, screamin fuck fags,

I'm a killa bomb call me c4, i stay shooting bars i don't reload, i try ta lay low, keep away from

Miley came in like a wrecking ball, i came in like an american nuclear explosion, the rhyme version,

//this song is dedicated to the american lower class

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

The gangsters are scared of upsetting they industry masters

Grew up poor, still poor but by american standards

And american music shows.

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

We don't trust no one american, conservative or libertarian,

I keep my friends close, enemies closer, fuck both, i dont trust no one

As i lie and cheat my way to the american dream

Now i was dreaming bout a deal at the age of thirteen

Shakin' like it's parkinsons from the clitoris of kelly clarkson's dick

Know now that i am an american years later isolated