This is a song about "Jack the rapper"

The reality is i don't know jack

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Im the nonstop rapper

I don’t care where ya are

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

While im pissin,on the head of your favorite rapper,

Too late now we're friends, i surely prefer

Bringin back osama, hitler, and jack the ripper,

On a snake who faked the jack, yo, lift it back

While i am poppin' like a snappin' crack

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

I eat you like a afternoon snack, and i pour in the side glass some jack/

Now move back over here to the right

Jack your wheels at the red light

The whole rapper thing aren't ya

Uh, that shit you talk don't move me nada