This is a song about "Rats"

Touring through the warmest cities with the coldest raps

Trip out fucking deadly being bit by bats and rats,

Next the homeless he see's as filthy rats, he's got a rack set up,

Like my remy with no juice, you a lot like bishop

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

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king

I done put them percs down, think i'm 'bout to relapse

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

Blood all over grass mouth infested with rats i'm a known killer names encarved in each

Now sissy prep up for a symphony of alimonies within a pterodactyl screech

You weak rats relax these tracks i release on the streets

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

And wonder why i spit ruthless raps to the hopeless rats

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