This is a song about "Cars and hoes"

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

Ambition is priceless that’s something in your veins

I represent, but still i need the cars, the hoes, the freshest kicks,

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

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

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box

Now i play the roosevelt and i cop rose

And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Overused crap about their bitches and hoes,

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

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

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops