This is a song about "The native american tribes fromthe lewis and clark epedition"

Got up, voice says look up, surrounded by members of the native mob,

You gotta look at reality, understand that shit so you don't get caught

From the ghetto to the 'burbs, know we meant, every word

This is what the american government has urged,

I live in the american south with the racial divide,

My uncle doing life, inside prison he wasn't wrapped too tight

Yeah i know a city that's surrounded by a beautiful beach

Upward mobility's a myth, the american dream we can't reach,

Overseas, i can put you on my dream team

A team from out of queens with the american dream

Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks

Burning american flags, screamin fuck fags,

Cause i'll be honest: i ain't tryna be a victim of the projects

And it's time to make a real native separation from the fake friends