This is a song about "Dogs and cats"

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

Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag

Snapchats or four flats doesnt bother my cats,

Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

Call me michael vick i go down behind my dogs

Cause i rather shatter the skittish cats

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

These other cats bring blasphemy

Once as a slave who imagined being free

I kill on the wary pavement and leave these cats dribbling

Good evening, uhm, everybody listening

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

Take a tab of acid and hang with with cats in hats,