This is a song about "Big cars"

I like bitches in air maxes without socks

I feel like i got fifty cars

Watching for hollow-tip shots

Got like a hundred cars

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

White fences and all the material things, couple of nice cars big television screens,

Mercy is for the weak when i speak i screamafraid to sleep; i'm havin crazy dreams

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

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

With reality defeating n leaving scars guns shot from cars

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

Go continue staring at the sky,dream of expensive cars

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

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars