This is a song about "Cars and hoes"

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

You got your mean little walk with the model pose

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

Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes

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

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

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

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

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

But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,

Got some ill gold, diamonds thats still low

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose