Your dead we know it
You're just a house man, we know to show it....
I spend time outside, a field nigger I am
Running the streets in a red car
'Cause your in the house of defeat
We lived in boxes, we had nothing down there, and you sit in your heritage and judge us here....
You play in cardboard houses that we came from
Don't judge us 'cause you're poor and white, don't judge us at all, you have no fucking right
These walls, they suck, they breath in shit
Thanks for my very own gas chamber, you weak old skimp
Here you are doing us dirt
At least I know who my father is, you bastard greet Merced
