Song parody of

Foul Cats

by Kool G Rap

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  • English English (English)
  • French Français (French)
  • Spanish Español (Spanish)

[Intro/Outro: repeat 2X ] Foul cats scheamin up the setup Tryin to leave me and my cream wet up Two in the head leaded up Call the coroners to make they bed up Infrared shit from neck up Before they got to lit the tec up [Kool G Rap] It was a setup my nigga got hit they blew his chest up The hollow tips ripped his vest up son is messed up and blessed up; call my cast up it's time to dress up Four-fifth and Smith-n-Wessed up, ready to press up and fuck their nest up, the enemy is Hennessey to sessed up Actin up, hit my motherfuckin man up Never again will he stand up, yo Big Jan hook the plan up Pull the masks, pull the van up These niggaz tryin to hit the fam up; these small times cats Yo fuck that, I can't see that, where them niggaz be at? Where they hang at? Where they live at? Where they slang at? (Aiyyo Son one is a known cat, he walk around with the chrome gat This hoodrat know where the nigga home at) Well here's a quarter baby, go and phone that This motherfucker bout to get his shit blown back His whole dome clapped, we cock back the gats and started cruisin Up the boulevards and avenues-n, I'm short fusin and two biscuit usin; mad hot but, not in the mood for losin We hit the strip pickin up clues and we on the heels of this nigga shoes and out the blue when, we see the chick the nigga screwin Pushin his whip with the ice cuban Hemmed her up sweet, put heat to her wig piece, the zig piece to this nig's beefs, this bitch named Charise from East New York, listen bitch, you better talk Or get your whole frame surrounded, with white chalk Pulled the rat in back of the van, bitch we don't want you we want your man, you understand? The hoe said, "Please, I got his house keys, the nigga got five keys and mad cheese, a hundred G's" Lie to me bitch you gettin one of these Four-five see's in both knees, she said, "Honestly I promise G I'm not lying," then the hoe started crying We hit the road me and my niggaz flying to the crib in Jackson Heights, the nigga live three flights up He type buck, but I ain't givin a fuck Grab his bitch up, make the hoe go first in case the nigga buck, open the door up, and put the stunt in front Then we all started creepin, he stretched out up on the sofa sleepin, yeah me and my cats standin there just peepin, money's about to get laced My nigga Ty threw a glass of whiskey in his face Big Jan ready to blaze the place; he on his way to Amazing Grace -- nigga woke up and saw the big guns Me and my two sons, he knew he was done You hurt a loved one, step back about to let him have one Yo fuck that, aiyyo black, where the sack of heroin at? I'm bout to give cat some motherfuckin railroad tracks We dumped the whole bag inside a spoon and left the room to heat that, and came right back, yo grab the nigga arm black Put raw shit in the nigga vein, watch the needle drain Went from being restrained to mad 'tane Less than a moment nigga started zonin His mouth foamin, lookin like he possessed by The Omen His bitch was reachin for the phone and, I had to smack her with the chrome and, left her on the floor moanin Cocked back, I had to finish this, know my stee' we leave no witnesses, shot and got the fuck out the premises Outro

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Foul Cats

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