This is a song about "Black people problems"

Y’all rambling, talking shit to these bitches

I've enough problems to deal with

Rub the wood and ima show em love

Mo' money, mo' problems

Poor black people seen as on welfare and lazy thugs,

Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks

He bought me a hoodie, a couple albums

Don't get me wrong, they always had problems

I'm a splatter of bad problems,

Stack up your funds like a million bucks

Women troubles family problems

Don’t you be holding back, your love

I'm not used to be around black people, that what's worries me

First one to spot you and i ain't telling nobody