I’m still a NIGGA whether or not I pull a fuckin trigga 

I’m fuckin black, brown, mud-colored, bitch, what you figga 

I see the flag and I see whites, coming on the blue, just to shed some red

You P.O.C., you hunted dead

These mothafuckas gremlins

Not Mogwai, but demons, cultural killers, and villains

If you get NIGGAS marching behind you in numbers of millions and billions

They gon blame you for killings

For the rapin of all they womens

Like we NIGGAS ain’t got no feelings

Gaddamn, this drink got me reeling

Double negatives and I’m deep within my feelings

Gaddamn, this don’t make no sense

Where’s my color’s (NIGGA’S) recompense

We deserve some fuckin mothafuckin cents

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