This is a song about "Old niggers"

Black woman you cold

Then those bitches who grew old.

Call me lazy, i ain't your baby

This old bastard will kill me?

Like i'm a moldy old herb

Wrong drink, the right work

Like an old paper plate

I'm dreaming to be great

Except the niggers and the women and the whites who aren't regal

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

While im dishing out all of their wishes and burnin em faster than niggers in

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

Ain't tryin to be your god, just want to live my dreams

For every niggers who died protesting through the streets