This is a song about "Minorities"

No more keyboard plotting, its time to start the propping, i know i'm a problem

They don't wanna see their boy john in the center of a missing persons column

That i couldn't leave even semi-free on cinco de mile*

Into the canal, it took the discipline master, a frown and a while

I back up rhymes by stacking lines, they jack it like winter coats,

We got soul but no control, like john rambo rippin' throats