This is a song about "Whit girls"

Most of them ain't conscious, they just monsters

Nigga, got a finger on the trigger, girls,

Girls, traffic and some things tragic

Because there ain't no coming back from that

Rich girls don't even look at girls that was the notion

Boy in a flash its like you start to replace him

So she takes some whit pills and says so long

Send him the voicemail cause we all the way gone

When they try to teach us, we be in the bleachers

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers

These girls be so crazy,

I reel them in, goadomes on see

Powerpuff girls and invader zim

We pray while we prey on competition

And don't you bring your camera phone

Leave sweet, good hearted girls alone.