This is a song about "Irish are thiefs"

My raps are good, yours are bad..

But they ain't for rat tat tat-tat tat

Skies are black, clouds are red

Finding more light to shed

Trade in my white tee for a tie and a sweater

Foam game shitting on irish springs and lever

It feels good to be over you, babe

Your raps are counterfeit, mine are homemade

Enforce, i'm elegant and

Why are you crying, are you frightened.

I wish i’ll never see you again

Gangsters are pussies and thugs are lame

Are your hands still shaking? are those aids?

Now war missiles hand guns and grenades