This is a song about "Dead rats"

For setting up traps

Trapping with the hood rats

This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens

Rap attack your pack a rats coming in like swat teams,

That's boa, see that's my set

Boom! now that she is dead

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Its the real poke' rap poke a hundred fuckin rats

If skill was a scary basement i'd have rats nibbling

If you ain't wearing no color, can't nobody say nothing

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

Help out a friend who's living with the rats and eating scraps

You ain't gettin' dough, don't even come around them

People are trapped like rats in cages, it snaps and snarls 'em,

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

I can see it with my cats eye but you to busy teaching kids that rats die