This is a song about "Customs"

Practices so inhumane, if i become president, vote for me,

Lemme see them big titties, don't be actin' sadidy you're not pretty

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

I'm purging old habits of studying these rap charts

I'm a half-assed activist that preaches but never practices,

Sick, spit a pandemic, crack and cancer mixed with cannabis

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

Restricted by your habits, your family definitely can't have it

Sleeping habits adapted to the moon's orbit

You need more assist than the handicapped kids, oh, shit

They gettin chips, they flippin bricks

You see its one of my habits

Tired of fighting this bad habits that consumate me

Are you shallow cause if not i'll take it deeper baby

I'm imaging the patterns

The richest place on earth