[Verse 1]

I call them crackers, call them whites, call them mixed, call them guaps

Call them ‘victs, call them kikes, call them pigs, call them cops

Call them judges, call them lawyers—they call me spick, it doesn’t stop

I’m out my mind, living off [?], hit this watch

Got my pistol cocked, ready to rock these Anglo-Americans

‘Bout to lick a shot at these gang full of Arians

These blue-eyed devils are demons to us Nephilims

We angelic and they jealous ‘cause they got recessive genes

But wait a second. Take a look at your reflection

And answer me this question: what is your complexion?

Son, you know someone in your family was from Spain

And we all come from Africa—our family is the same

You insane, talking killing white people with uncertainty

But for certain, someone in your family was from Germany

So murder me… I mean you…

‘Cause we light-skinned just like whites. Dawg, we all the same people

[Verse 2]

I call them niggers, call them coons, call them jiggaboos and porch monkeys

Then laugh at they culture like jumping over the broom

They ham bones, banjo-playing, [Gitchi?]-talking bammers

Buffoonery, bamboozled into being Sambos

These tall babies starve crazy, flash rappers

Let’s send ‘em to Liberia or poor parts of Haiti on the daily

Lately, I’m thinking ‘bout burning down city blocks

Littered with liquor stores, abortion clinics, and them chicken spots

Killer, stop. We can undo them four-hundred years of oppression

Starting with your grandfather’s hand—now listen

Uncle David had a ‘fro, so why you talk smack

Look at tia [?] and ti ti Ide there—they all black

Look at your cosmet. Carlos from way back

Someone in your fam was a slave—let’s state facts

Eleven-million went to Latin America

So yeah, you a black DNA carrier

[Verse 3]

And to you soccer-playing, well-versed at taco station operations

Pop-playing, [?] grow and don’t learn shit like potty training

While it hit, dumb cholo gangsters should have been aborted

Anchor-baby-having bitch, border-hopping alcoholic

This a force that can’t be bound by barriers

So I’m that minute man that stop the browning of America

Clear out the area. Man, they don’t worry me

‘Cause we gon’ do them like we did to the Cherokees

Word up, C. You know you dead wrong

Looking at your native grandpap, he made you headstrong

Tough life, Teflon, that warrior spirit

Inspired by his words, what you talk in your lyrics

You learned from him and now you walk you fearless

You talk of killing brown people—you should be embarrassed

You being careless. You taking it too far

New America: Black, Red, and White—that’s what you are