This is a song about "Indian food"

Get my employees up on food stamps and work in fast food,

Now me, stalley, and meek wanna see ross get the a-rod loot

Worked hard so the fridge always had food

Words sharp like a jerry rice curl route

See me as blasphemous for i don't need them

Mother can't afford to bring food and medicine

Wear my hat to the back, i'm in a different kind of mood

It's outrageus, people not having money for food

Cuz if i hit it now these feelings take a different route

Cause i remember all them nights when we had no food

And i ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love

Fuck your humanity rather care more for an indian crisis

Trying make a ton of dollars quicker fast food

All my niggas get together to gather loot

Got on my suede shoes, i'm in a great mood

Your worthless man, just like fuckin canned food.