This is a song about "Cars and geting laid"

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

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

So they hurtin but what's for certain you can get you some heat

And i laid some rhymes for you on this funky gangsta beat

You know the common statistic inspired by hoop dreams

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

I've been used for trade and laid by soldiers against my will,

Takin' shots of poon juice to the head for a cheap thrill

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

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

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

And mine somewhere bout mars

Then i'll get laid and it feels fuckin great

And we gonnna toast up for the niggas that hate

Lips, hips, hair drips down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

Drink your ice tea and enjoy geting beaten by me