This is a song about "Blacks"

I’m pitchin bitches thats dreamin’ thinking i'm trickin’ chicken

Cause they are too many innocent blacks n' latins in prison.

And blacks are lazy thugs on crazy drugs and welfare,

Tell me where my soldiers at? put yo' pistols in the air

I'm trynna make a couple million off my ambition

Of the blacks and the whites all together, with no friction,

Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants

Believed that blacks could unite with the whites together and shake hands

And blacks have stereotypes portrayed by the media,

I ain't gotta tell you they know about me, huh

Matter fact i am farmer john milkin' cattle tracks

Actually i'm on welfare and poor, smack 'em, live with blacks,

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

You stomped on the blacks, took 'em, made it harder,

On an everyday basis, play with racist hate, and blacks offend,

When you next to medo you wanna test me ?put your tired head on my chest