This is a song about "Broke niggas pretending to be rich"

Look it something they can't ever see

You faggot just pretending to be

Broke, only skin and bone, wishing all his troubles to be gone

She told me that the radio's been playing the same song all day long

You ain't rich, you're a snitch, and you broke nigga,

Our children must be taught, of africa

Talented like a clairvoyant magician with a mic its in your best interest

It's fad when hating our size of our dick believed to be rich and known to be ditched

Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, bitch

And my niggas don't need me they already rich

And the 9th is on the track bitch

Well, you better be rich

I come in peace like uh, extraterrestrial being

While you were pretending to be sleeping

See im about riding for my niggas and tryna get rich

Double s shit, swastikas on the letterman, bitch