This is a song about "Cars"

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

Got racks, ain’t talking tits

Dreamin big wanna have nice cars big house

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

Never had a chance to try

Cars are passing by, guy

Got like a hundred cars

When bret hart meet brett farve

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

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Go continue staring at the sky,dream of expensive cars

That proud feeling we get knowin' that pussy is ours

All i need is moola cars and friends

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

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