This is a song about "Cars and money"

Money come and money go still money problems addin up

Like my remy with no juice, you a lot like bishop

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

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

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

Now i play the roosevelt and i cop rose

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

All i need is moola cars and friends

Odd future wolf gang, wolf gang presents

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

Now my shit is like a crip sneaker

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

Yeah they always defend you, look how they say your name

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

I got mouths to feed wanna buy a house and a couple cars