This is a song about "Bitches and cars"

We’re not mindless stars with shining cars and diamonds white,

I done seen a nigga rise, watch you niggas dick ride

And there's little to be glad for

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember

I don't care about the nice cars and shoes with the leather,

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

I got mouths to feed wanna buy a house and a couple cars

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

That they probably be in the closet of old folks