This is a song about "Cat farts"

Cause i’m going out with a fist raised

But i've got all the farts, well contained

So if he die, and came back, would he try to save rap

When they ask my answers always it was the cat

Im givin' you bad luck worse than a black cat

So now i’m under pressure i want it bad

Mommy and daddy were like a dog and a cat

Hit, i never call her back. bet she keep on coming back

Fuck what they say and get your dough nigga

I poop so hard my face farts to the

Black fours red drop head doors

Like a cat without claws,

Yeah, im not the skinniest cat.

Iphone and ipad, air max, and my gat

But, shorty i'm far from a saint

But i've got the farts, well contained