This is a song about "Mikey mouse"

Its like a game of cat an mouse,

Oaktown still in the motherfuckin house

Call it the trap house, i got the mouse, call it the little heater,

While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for

And it tried to run away but "sikey mikey" dragged it back

Keep talking, get you snatched for that scratch, clapped with the mac

Hundred k in twenty-two hours

When they know the truth is u a mouse/

My tires align with the play, but the times out

In a house, with my niggas, and no mouse around

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Why's the mouse sticky can you pickup your pants

They chase you a like mouse in the city of the bronx.

T.i. literally wanted to shoot up the charts