This is a song about "Bob the cat"

We must, be the flyest of southerner men

The cat pissed on my porch? bitch don't do it again,

Be a real cat,rep your ass in the cypher

Flow so sick thought he wrote the rap for him - no sir

The little cat was practice, for my later regime.

To get ourselves up out that dream, no i’s in team

Yes siree 'bob', i was thinking the same thang

It's all over now, take it like a man

The little cat was practice, for my later regime.

Overseas, i can put you on my dream team

To cause gruesome scenes, killed the cat in the kitchen.

That's how this shit be goin when you go for number one

Rage, pain, was blown away in the wind like bob dylan's,

But somethin' was always missin' like six digits

We use to be kids on that bob the builder,

Hey, who dat, who dat? that nigga you been waiting for