This is a song about "Running ver cats with lawnmowers"

Fuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards

With blood running fast down my arms

While the states are spraying kids with 'straying' clips for cash that's running/

If we ain't fucking for the moment then we doin' nothing

Uh riding 'round, i got some towson bait

If you cross paths with my while im running straight,

I leave most motherfuckers with suppressed lungs running out of air supply,

So you she would hide cause she thought of me as a typical guy

Napalm at your chest- sonnin' cats, to date the moms with the chests

While i ride this maserati, rick and his best friends

Everybody seems to misread every sentence

Wolf album, track seven; slapping cats with mac elevens

I'm running with all this hate stopping

But he don't rule a thing