This is a song about "Cats and roses"

Oh its over whole time she knows this

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Nigga, this nigga's forehead is so fuckin' big

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic

"make a fool of me" upon uttering a threat in attempt to self defense

But you gotta be meticulous, to get these critics and cats to bob their heads,

This is battle rap / i'll rattle cats

And dj's play my records cause i make the needles dance

From ghettoes and broken homes, we're roses grown from concrete,

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

Run with ill cats, and we we kill that, with heat like shaq attack,

Where fiends always on that water like a lily pad

Not only high, but i season you cats

Check my bank account, got racks on racks