This is a song about "Blade brown"

Walk on with your scars, don't turn around

Chicanos, mexicanos, brown,

And my bitch is the type of bitch that's all about that dough

R.i.p to my brown bronco, keep the peace in morocco

They say them colors must be fake

Never give up to the blade

Ill crack your shoulder blade

Till i'm well-paid, bail's paid

In the bathroom with a blade, wrists shaking/

Not concerned with most rappers me i'm a king

So im sharper than a six inch blade

Im still here but i can't skate

Of course they all hate

Snicker snack, vorpal blade

86. blood from the blade cuts,

Or closed casket for our troubles