The anti-white agenda is now so blatant that only somebody completely ignorant or supportive of it could fail to acknowledge it.
What we see in this video would never be tolerated if it was aimed at other racial groups, but in 2017 it has gotten to the point where it is deemed acceptable to attack whites and to gloat about our perilous demographic situation.
Just read the lyrics and ask yourself what the reaction would be if this was targeting Blacks, Asians or Jews.
Gold. Edged and decorated.
A coat framed with gold surrounding white skin,
wrapped around your body fat and muscles and bones like a magic cloak.
The signs of power.
The signs of wealth. Insignia.
Details that seem small and inconsequential but they are proof of status.
Your status. White. Powerful. Rich.
This picture confirms, you were a man, that you existed.
Your family bore fruit, burst from the tree and here’s the proof.
Does this mean I don’t exist?
That I’m not a man?
Because I don’t see a face like mine, framed in gold, hanging on the wall?
Have you taken all the space?
Sucked out all the air, swallowed all the wine, taken the goodness from the earth,
sweated the energy from my family’s living essence,
in order that you can live forever, edged in gold?
Where’s the universal balance?
Am I meant to admire the brushwork and the colours and the historical context,
without considering how you came to be here?
And people who look like me aren’t?
Am I meant to just accept that this is how things work out,
ignore the past that has survived despite attempts to gold-edge it from existence?
I am here, too, now.
And you are dead.
Dead, random white dude.
What’s so special about you?
I am here, against the wall, framed in gold, smiling in my privilege,
the privilege of being alive.
While you are now framed in dust.
The signs of wealth, the insignia of status,
they are a gravestone that a dog pisses against, shifting, cracked in clay.
They are a long line of in-bred spawn, soon to die out themselves.
But I am here. My very existence, my closeness to your face, my breath, all offends thee.
Or it would if you breathed yourself.
But you can’t. Your posterity is a cartoon,
evidence of a vain stupidity whilst my own monument is the living,
pulsing one that is here, next to you, in your hallowed space, every thought an encryption.
I am here, now.
But I can feel the gravity of mortality pulling me down.
Ghost breath stuffing my lungs, the endless gazes of dead, random white dudes.
You can’t frame me.
I’m a man.
Despite you, to spite you.
I see you.
I see you…
And I’m gone.
That this comes from a talentless rapper that the vast majority of people will never have heard of outside of the multicultural ghettos is laughable.
This is the celebration and glorification of demographic genocide which is what is occurring across the West. Our enemies have imported millions of high birthrate immigrants who have become so large in number that in only a matter of decades they will become the dominant demographic within Western nations.
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