This is a song about "Niggers are filth"

But you done got thick on a nigga, god damn

Damn shame niggers in my crew can't bang

I mean of course just the same old

Are so good while yours are mold

Thoughts are provoking, these thoughts are a commotion

I threw my pair on the lightpole because of him

Damn shame niggers in my crew can't bang

Put burners in the hands, of the black man

I was born to do the damn thing

Kings are clashing and storm storms are slashing

It feels good to be over you, babe

Your raps are counterfeit, mine are homemade

You sit in filth while you hate those who sit in wealth,

At the tender age of 12, and you feel that no one cares

You sit in filth while you hate those who sit in wealth,

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears