This is a song about "White thugs"

Could become somethin’ great, but would rather beat thugs,

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

Back to the slums packed with psycho savages and thugs

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

I hate when thugs die, so i let out a smug cry,

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

While young thugs still running away from the cops

Thugs slingin ice, rollin dice, whores with lice

I used to have a nine to five

That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups

Say you if you were to stuck up in the noon between the thugs,

All of you illiterate joe's are illegitimate thugs

Swag-er. this is a mixtape about... nothing. not on drugs