This is a song about "Whip poor whil"

Everybody shutters as they hear the whip cracks

Look around, fool, got a wall full of plaques

You know...you know who you are

Whip bitches with greek tar.

I lived with poor blacks and poor whites in their neighborhoods,

Signing off brother ali, sincerely yours

I don't know why the industry wanna keep me a secret

Fine leather stitch so dont flick your joint tips in this whip

But i'm leaving town in a little bit

(it dont matter they just go back to the old whip)

Me and you just need to talk a bit

I roll arond in my new whip

Grew up poor, still poor but by american standards

Usually it's the prophets, ask a cat what really matters

And hell if i'm gon tell him, now shut up and play it cool

I represent the desperation of the poor