This is a song about "These fucking immigrants"

Shots, they back and forth

When i'm fucking with these whores

Self-hatred...i hate you...and myself

These years these fucking living nightmares

And i ain't frontin for her

Fucking painting picture

But he don't rule a thing

And blast you with his fucking

Oaktown still in the motherfuckin house

Catching the shit from all these fucking clowns

God forgive me for my sinnin but shit i got these fucking stacks tho

I'm popping champagne, drinking till i'm jumping out the window

All these lines sound like fucking crap

But they ain't for rat tat tat-tat tat

Dry land , but its my fucking

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing