(Verse 1)
/That boy go bananas, throws fingers at cameras/ Is too open when he paints his picture up on a canvas/ Likes to reference G-d and then follow with dammit/ Has a problem with is heritage, continually trash it/ Did a track, with a Muslim, claimed our country was fascist/ In the vid, he made salat, the hell's with that shit?/ Bet he's a sympathizer, or a terrorist worst/ Started singin' "Kill Whitey" last show that they worked/ Stood up, on that stage, with that arrogant smirk/ I'm sure he's insecure, and a terrible jerk/ Keeps mixed company, blacks, Jews, and the like/ Like deep down inside, he's ashamed that he's white/ Saw him in the Jailbirds, spent a couple of nights/ Bet his mother is disgusted, keeps him out of her sight/ Bet when she speaks with her friends, never speaks on his life/ Pretends like he isn't there, just to save her the spite/
(Hook)
/Don't pay him attention, he don't know who he is/
/Little insecure prick, pretend he flow and he spit/
/Boy wanna be black, tries to show that he is/
/Crock? Name suits, he should know that he's shit/
(Verse 2)
/Heard his open mic failed, as did his hometown showcase/ Never made money, so they showed where the door breaked/ Heard that DJ backed him, one that spins at the club/ That's controversy filled and but that's welcoming is/ Heard his ole lady left him, and he shattered to pieces/ That's what they both get, both slandering Jesus/ Talks about suicide as if he's screaming to see us/ Like look at me, look at me, he's either sick or defeatist/ Heard his real label split, acts left in the process/ So, he started a new one, like this one will progress/ Don't make real music, and he sucks at the fake shit/ And he'll never have a song on a radio playlist/ His album's never dropping, been coming for two years/That single came and went, everybody like who cares/ And if it does drop, hell, I'm sure it'll flop/ Who you know would buy a record from a rapper named Crock?/
(Hook)
/Don't pay him attention, he don't know who he is/
/Little insecure prick, pretend he flow and he spit/
/Boy wanna be black, tries to show that he is/
/Crock? Name suits, he should know that he's shit/
(Verse 3)
/Yeah he made salat and I back it completely/ Don't like it, don't care, give a fuck how you see me/ This country isn't fascist, hell look at the brackets/ Of taxes between politicians and the national average/ Far as being white, shit, it is what it is/ But I won't live a life being proud of the shit/ Far as my crew goes, those people are family/ Keep 'em out of your mouth, don't misunderstand me/ The jail shit was dumb shit, really nothing of mention/ But outta that came Bandit and divine intervention/ Mom's proud, in her way, she just hates that I'm broke/ Far as the shows, thanks for the five you paid at the door/ Sparkle City's still up, hell Scotty's behind me/ Lovelorn's growing wings and we're working on flying/ Buy it or your don't, but peep the progress to here/ Shit, I hate my name to and Catharsis is here/
(Hook)
/Don't pay him attention, he don't know who he is/
/Little insecure prick, pretend he flow and he spit/
/Boy wanna be black, tries to show that he is/
/Crock? Name suits, he should know that he's shit/
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