This is a song about "Cars and money no cussing"

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

To me playing in the game is worth more than the seats

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Now i play the roosevelt and i cop rose

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

See, i like the person that you are

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

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

No money, little bit of chance, skill, and i was out sold,

Odd future wolf gang, wolf gang presents

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

No more money, no more fame

Trying to renovate the game