This is a song about "Whites people"

Not knowin' southern whites are lower class, my fuckin' life,

Navigating through her eyes, destination to her thighs

For blacks and the whites, but these kids hear us slaughter cops,

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

Free throws of money, bet you can’t block

Blacks, whites, and puerto rocs, poor or not,

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

It's poor whites and poor blacks, still they hate each other,

That 53% of whites are working class with stereotypes?

Money got me excited, i’m coming four or five times

Lord lord forgive us, personality clash

And 53 percent of whites are just seen as "gutter trash",

Signing off brother ali, sincerely yours

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

You listenin' to her is leaving you with empty nights

Would it surprise you if i told you facts about the poor whites,