This is a song about "Black children"

Pants shitting, scared, barely even shifting, i'm as sick as fourty children

I could spend a whole damn advance on some kicks and some pants son

There's children dying and i am crying

No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing

We kung-fu that jack black/

Where the black girls get their weaves back

You know i want a piece of that pie

You face made blind children cry

I wanna be famous, the man your children ask what his name,

You done put two of america's most wanted in the same

And stay focused on the women and you get less done

Don't make any excuses, you want to care for the children

And you call this shit rape but i think that rape's fun

You find yourself thinking more about the children

Nail them to a cross in front of their damn children

I never wore a kufi, ignore my religion