This is a song about "Southern cross"

That if they cross my path

She graduated top of the class

Got that cross on my forehead,

Believe me, i'm beyond dead

Kill em all, fuck em all. hip-hop really is alive

Not knowin' southern whites are lower class, my fuckin' life,

But that's not my cross to bear.

It’s not fair, the ones with the good hair

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

I wanna live my life and ball, make a couple million

Ima blow like i'm mothafuckin' sniffing lines

New orleans southern baptists, gutter trash whites,

Feds with bugs like the southern heat, power's unplugged

A straight thug motherfucker who ain't scared to bust

In a southern redneck trailer park where you ain't got a minute,

M.o.b.! nigga we ridei hit the charts like a stick-up kid