This is a song about "Hats to rats"

It's odd that they say that the crack kill blacks

Its the real poke' rap poke a hundred fuckin rats

Because i'm seventeen, compose my own beats

You weak rats relax these tracks i release on the streets

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

Then i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats

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

Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money

I wear green hats because i'm fortunately lucky

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