This is a song about "Isreal and arabs"

Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble

, iffy and pitiful , shitty and beautiful,

Slice and slash, bite and gnash, bite and mash, fight and smash,

Why you saving that, with her misbehaving ass

I pray the lord my guns to keep

And kill yourself and your clique

Snapple fact: you rather wack

And like to boast and brag

Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,

I been laughed at, hated on, no one would even play my songs

It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse

And their mothers and fathers

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

Swag-er. this is a mixtape about... nothing. not on drugs

And nasty remains and bones

I got alotta phones