This is a song about "Haiti relief workers"

I say bitch a lot, though i'm proud of my sisters

Movin' bricks through the site like construction workers,

What the fuck do i say to psychologists and social workers?

Usually it's the prophets, ask a cat what really matters

Different stage, switching paces like i'm shifting strings

Leaving embers of relief and remembrance

I take home billions and pay my workers eight bucks an hour,

This is for my bitches gettin' high on the regular

Nothin sweet when i attend, see

Got me feelin washed away like haiti

Like being garbage some type of disease

I receive the degree to my relief

It's utterly bologna, so i'm muslim to these rappers

What the fuck do i say to psychologists and social workers?

We gotta get back to what really matters

Fuck the god damn psychologists and social workers,