This is a song about "Backseat pimpin"

Pimpin' this shit up, hittin' ho's, yet respect for my momma.

The beer flowin' like water, louie bag with the prada

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

Emcees heads in my backseat, keep em as a treasure/

The people ain't got shoes for they feet, or food to eat

And this bass is like a drummer in my backseat

Been out here hustling on these streets, ain't had a chance to speak

We pop tags like its acne, passin l's to the backseat

I'll be in the backseat, push the pedal let's get to stepping

You kidding meit's really nothing to me and my king

Nothing but my dreams matterhoping for better days

Nah i ain't afraid to demonstrate my pimpin' ways

But i was wrong, baby girl sung another tune

And a car with no backseat and some leg room