This is a song about "Nasty niggers"

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Yeah nigga its nasty

Damn shame niggers in my crew can't bang

Fire in the hand, supplier of the man

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

I'm nasty. but on the beat, i get jazzy

For every niggers who died protesting through the streets

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

She was wet off the bat

Nasty nigga step back

My squad, holler the loudest, y'all niggers childish

Professing they found one ready as this

How about some anal beads girls voice " oooo you nasty"

A single mother with a problem child, daddy free