This is a song about "Big cars"

That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

And now your best friend's having kids

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

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

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Got like a hundred cars

Ya'll had your run, don't ruin ours

I feel like i got fifty cars

Shitting on these niggas like i need depends

All i need is moola cars and friends

Just put your hand on the glass

Big tits and a big ass