This is a song about "Bacnice cars"

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Got like a hundred cars

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

I feel like i got fifty cars

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

While in the distance i hear passing cars

Cars are passing by, guy

That new c-l fly

You'll be missing work, and switching lanes, and hitting cars,

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

So here i am at the store for some chips

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots

Go continue staring at the sky,dream of expensive cars

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Memories of stolen cars swervin down abandoned blocks