This is a song about "Hate peaple"

But it aint wrong, so why the hate

Pitchfork doesn't need a plate

Low income no bills getting paid

To all them haters that hate

They fasting they won't leave me ate

Quit passing all of this hate,

Two dyke jawns but tonight they straight

And these lames will forever hate/

Its the things that i hate

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

Golly wolly i, still hear the hate

I let her decorate the real estate

Talk sharp like a razor blade

With a heart full of hate