This is a song about "Cars and hoes"

Fortune, fame, cars, hoes are tens, nobody's tense,

Help me pay my little rent, maybe sit in a benz

Shitting on these niggas like i need depends

All i need is moola cars and friends

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

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds

Just another product of this matrix

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

Like i'm only serving 20 rocks

Fuck them hoes and the cops

In the front row at a holy justin bieber show

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

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

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

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

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops