This is a song about "Bmw cars"

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

I feel like i got fifty cars

And i know that your supply

Cars are passing by, guy

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

Got like a hundred cars

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

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

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

Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,

Slangin' rocks with your glocks put this tape in your box

Niggas is working forever my bars

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars