Hate

[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