This is a song about "Treatment"

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I think everyone remembers the treatment by the upper-class,

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

Was put in a treatment facility feeling guilty like i was stealing lines from you guys,

Or some treatment in religion

For those whey no fit dey fix son

I put in the work, i'm getting the treatment!

Go on, suck it up; but hurry, i got nuts to bust

Not only am i here to talk the treatment of blacks,

Go to hell, i mean that, burn you like green backs

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

And i agree that it's nothing compared to treatment of slaves,

I'm not talking bout treatment of the royalty,

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

From all you cheap frequent feasting sequenced in need of treatment,

In this rusty cunt, that won a cup in collectin' dust