S͞P͞L͞I͞F͞F͞-͞C͞A͞T͞ 64’

[Intro – Alley Sparks] [[test: engine rev, hydraulic pop, 808 growl]] Y-y-you ridin’ with the cat with the criminal grin, ’64 Impala dipped low like sin, Blunt so fat it should count as a next of kin — SPLIFF-CAT BACK, now let the high begin. [Verse 1 – Spliff Cat, rapid-fire] Slide in the whip, I’m a westbound menace, Chrome so sharp it’ll cut your sentence. I’m a g-g-god of the curb with a blunt to the sky, Smoke halo lookin’ like I already died. I’m the alleyway phantom, the spliff-born vandal, Turn the block to a mural, the mural to a scandal. Human in the seat talkin’ “Bro slow down,” But I’m floatin’ this Impala like I ghosted the ground. Hydraulics hittin’ harder than a gang raid swing, Whole car jumpin’ like it grew damn wings. Cat eyes low, but the reflex vicious, Weave through lanes like the pavement’s suspicious. If the cops roll up, I’m cool, I’m chill, But the blunt got me speakin’ in a contract kill — E-e-every puff a warning, every exhale a deal: “Ride with me, human, or find out what’s real.” [Hook – Rapid, no singing] Ride with me, ride with me, SPLIFF-CAT drive-by vibes on the greenery. Slide with me, slide with me, Impala so low it rewrites gravity. High with me, high with me — I don’t hit the gas, the gas hits me. [Verse 2 – Alley Sparks, double-speed] Cruisin’ down the block like a West Coast jury, Hands in the air but ain’t no hurry. B-b-bullets of bass in the trunk go boom, Sound so heavy it’ll change your womb. Weed so loud it got its own echo, Cannabis cartel with a feline ghetto. Spliff-Cat legend, the blunt-born prophet, Got a pound in the dash and another in the pocket. Roll so deep we avoid the shallow, Chrome bounce lookin’ like a smoke-filled shadow. Human in the seat tryin’ not to cough, I’m chiefin’ this joint like I’m signing off. S-s-so many hits the block think I’m famous, Eyes so red they call me ignoramus. But I don’t care, I’m high, I’m free — A gangster cat with a THC degree. [Fast-Rap Breakdown – Triplet Flow] Whip so cold; blunt so fat; Cough too loud; blame the cat. Hydro pop, bounce-bounce back, ’64 swing like a heart attack. Smoke so thick it’ll block your sins, Tires so slick they erase your wins. F-f-feline fiend with a streetlight grin — Say my name wrong and the claws kick in. [Verse 3 – Spliff Cat, final flex] I’m the nine-life nightmare, the outlaw puff, Streetwise sage with the devil’s bluff. Roll by slow then I speed right past — Stutter in the flow like the blunt hit fast. I’m the g-g-gangland ghost on a hemp-cloud throne, The car, the smoke, the beat — all grown. If death wanna ride, tell him get in line, Fourth blunt lit and I’m still doin’ fine. Human shotgun seat lookin’ half-resigned — But this is Spliff-Cat country… Ride or rewind. [Outro – Alley Sparks] [[test: hydraulic drop, blunt crackle, sub fade]] If you can smell the smoke before the car… You’re already one of us.