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

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

I'm coming back to shock and awe, keep running, squawkin' with your clotted scars,

With a trail of dead mic's cause these wack cats get stopped like red lights.

They were niggas quite similar to pitching the lines

And we gonnna toast up for the niggas that hate

If you cross paths with my while im running straight,

The walls i couldn't break em or take em apart with a tank

Run with ill cats, and we we kill that, with heat like shaq attack,

In my own class, bitch i got them cold raps

Cause i rather shatter the skittish cats

And i done seen some old beefs make a bunch of news

People running out with a missing tooth

Well be running a muck with our music, doorlists and business

Wish you niggas father understood where the condom was