This is a song about "Intense black man"

My shit hair-burning, you not even a lil’ tan

A master plan to control the mind of a black man

It's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks

Intense with eviction of syllables mixed with precision in minutes

Even though shit got intense

A coward dies a thousand deaths

Like the man in black but the voice stays golden

You ain't gettin' dough, don't even come around them

In the black neighborhoods, man we had driven fast,

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

Haters eyes gettin' wide like bench seats

Its hard for a black man on the streets

Planet earth intense skills fulfills

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

It's all too black for me to blame it on the man

That was six years ago, whips come from japan