Step quiet…

Past the gate…

Into the house where the shadows wait.

If you don’t wanna be 134st?

You better give Tiger pats… first.

I prowl through the hallway with a low slow growl,

Floorboards creak like they’re scared somehow.

Portraits of old cats stare from the wall,

Every whisker twitch sayin’ “Don’t cross him at all.”

Landan, listen—this ain’t no joke,

One wrong move and the catnip smoke

Starts swirling like a warning sign…

So give those pats and you’ll be fine.

’Cause in the Big Fat Cat Boss’s house tonight,

Every lamp is dim, every shadow bites.

He’s got mafia buddies in velvet chairs,

Polishing claws like they’re billionaires.

Yeah the Big Fat Cat Boss rules the den,

He naps like a king and wakes like a legend.

If he hears you disrespecting me?

That’s a whole cat felony.

The Boss sits high on a giant throne,

Made of scratching posts and a fishbone stone.

His buddies circle with their fancy hats,

Looking tough for a bunch of chonky cats.

He says, “Tiger, kid, you’re my right paw now.

Keep the peace, keep the vibe, keep the sacred meow.”

I nod slow, tail flick like a warning,

This house gets spooky after morning.

’Cause in the Big Fat Cat Boss’s house tonight,

Every lamp is dim, every shadow bites.

He’s got mafia buddies in velvet chairs,

Polishing claws like they’re billionaires.

Yeah the Big Fat Cat Boss rules the den,

He naps like a king and wakes like a legend.

If he hears you disrespecting me?

That’s a whole cat felony.

He leans in close with a gravelly purr,

Says “Tiger, kid, keep things in order.”

I say “Boss, relax, I got the chat—

But Landan better give me pats.”

The room goes silent… all eyes on me…

Then the Boss laughs loud, “That’s family.”

So step in the mansion, respect the paws,

Follow the rules of the Big Fat Cat Boss.

If you don’t wanna end up 134st?

Give pats first…

Capisce.