Yeah, red bottoms, she ain't trying to dance
‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,
And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care
And blacks are lazy thugs on crazy drugs and welfare,
Lots of drugs and boos in his cup
I'm stunting, got em sick to their stomach
But now i know why drugs and alcohol
Then i blow, i’ma close out the par
My daddy drank and my momma did drugs;
In a malcolm x shirt chillin' with the ku klux
Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks
Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
All around theres death,drugs, and rape
I’m letting all my niggas grab a plate
Rollin' down the four o five
Of riches, and mad lavish lifestyles
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