This is a song about "Old white conservative men"

God knows how i feel about my life, how i feel about holding up white men with a sharpened knife,

Ran with the local crew and had a smoke or twoand i realize momma really paid the price

Rotten bodies piled up, goners or followers men

Rozay told me break a leg no wonder why i care again

Rollin with my d-o-gs i'm chiefin on some long beach

Rich white men control this nation, they're praying and preach,

Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics

I'd rather hang out with conservative cynical bigots,

Cause men lie, women lie

I'll meet you in the sky

There's a million names for your kind of chronic

Wanna be an old white dude in a powdered wig

And you down, hold it down for my nigga them

I kill the beat like andrew jackson did the red men

Niggas start listenin', and what i'm givin' them

We the moody, gucci, louis and pucci men