yo screw all the hard rap, cuz i still live on hard streets
skippin gates like heart beats
and hardly
servivin wit five heart beats
gotta make a livin, gotta eat
still livin where ascamos cant live wit out heat
ive done robberies
robbing popies
hood where bloods try to pop me
and want me to live properly
niggas still hungry, no food to eat
on the streets
i still manage to have beaf
and they say young cat like a magazine, he got issues
cuz i get shot at so i roll up on niggas like tolet tissue
wit a pistol
my 45
takin lives
and i turn to my ryhmes
to say wats on my mind
cuz the cats really from the hood
huntin niggas like animals in woods
still husltin goods
puttin hole in niggas the size of tood
any every body say they got the tools, ask they people
and only cat with hammers in they town is home depo
im hot from the heat i got, to the ryhmes i spit
still crip
tru pimp
jumpin niggas like chimps
flamin like fire in ur camp
posted on this like a stamp
bright as a lamp
Young Cat ever body welcome the champ.