This is a song about "Cars and cash"

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

Everything i wanted never seem so close

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

I was alerting her just to reinsert in her

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

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

And if you or anyone else ever comes near my cash

My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass

I'm love stoned from everywhere and she knows

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

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

You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for

And i'm still hurtin over pops

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?