Cats And Dogs Lyrics

from California Republic

"Cats And Dogs" is track #18 on the album California Republic.
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"Cats And Dogs" is track #18 on the album California Republic.
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Verse 1
Uhuh, I need a gangster bitch
N*gga I ain't lyin, Im talkin when I fuck
She scream you need silence
No domestic violence (violence)
Just domestic diamonds
So lemme ice you out
So when you slidin down the pole
Doin your Magic City thing
Yo neck and wrist glow
Im dreamin, she ain't a stripper, she a classy girl
Goin off that Patron, she my nasty girl
First name, Rachael, last name Jones
You related to Nas, girls, Queens my second home
You know... we can tear it up
Weekend in Cannes, then we comin to America
...She love that Gucci, never been to ATL
But she love that Gucci
Brrr! She taught me how to cook cage
And I taught her how to cook crack
And I chopped it on her back
Now tell me where they do that

Verse 2
I put her on a Greyham
She know she better stay down
Ride and die like my Bentley
Man this bitch will never break down
She my bustin baby, you should see her bust a tre pound
Love Roc-A-Fella so much, she won't even call me Jay now
She roll my weedman, like she my wingman
Then we get high, play Tiger Woods on that weed damn
Love is for a season, haters 365
And the game Cats and Dogs, keep your bitch by your side
Got a hardtop Lambo, when the rain start to pour
Not the rain outside, talkin the rain indoors
Her girlfriend told her, that I was creepin with a stripper
Told her I was courtside, watchin the wack ass Clippers
Bitch please! Im a Laker fan and Kobe thats my n*gga
Keep my grass cut so I can see when the snake slith her
Shit, came out of no where like Khloe and Lamar
Kinda got a n*gga thinkin maybe Im.

Verse 3
I let her drive the Range on our first date
She the first one to put me on that Drake mixtape
"I just wanna be successful baby"
Take you out the Hudson jeans and redress you baby
We can walk down Rodaeo, turn around, you on Melrose
Fly to New York in the winter and try on some Timbos
Or we can hit South Beach, fuck with Ross and Timbo
The world is cherry pond, and we can slice it up like Kimbo
You cook the rock, I break it down
I wrap it up, you weigh them pounds
I make the car, you start the car
We can drive it out of town
Im your nigga right? And you my bitch (Yea.)
Even if they lock me up, she gon get them brakes there
And when we get tired, we hit the truck stop and sit there
And zip my 501's and she gon put her lips there
The memoirs of a perfect bitch
You gotta hold them down even if its.

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