This is a song about "Skin on my hair"

But i still got that flow in my hair,

Don't you leave a seed in there

Everybody put three fingers in the air

Look what i got here, color black is my hair

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

I owe you nothin so get so get out of my hair

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Rag on my hair, wrap weed in vegas, rockin' vagabonds

People judge others based on their pigments under their skin

You killed the nigga, i stole a bible, is that a sin

I got that mass appeal

All of the hair from out my hear

But this italian is too slick, guess it's my greasy skin.

Everybody finger point in your direction