This is a song about "El gato de enrique"

Motor city's gritty, clowns like you get bent and then de-stroyed

Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for

Slick rick, de la soul, and rakim spit sicker,

Gone with out a trace when i deliver coup de grace

And you'll probably lose your mind tryna save face

Without no reasonable doubt y'all was all on the sofa

Concha de tu madre bitch don't touch my fuckin mota

Fif-tee /nine times till ya de-ceased/ im sick son new form of disease/

Niggas fightin 'cross the whole planet, so it could never be peace

I got el gran santro watching me

Knowing you can no longer party