Whiskey cigars and fast cars?
You pull up in parking lots
But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",
But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains
The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox
While in the distance i hear passing cars
Rozay told me break a leg no wonder why i care again
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose
They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,
And i ain't shallow, material things suppress bad luck
Nigga i dont spend my money on weed i keep my bands up
Heard the sound of several gun shots
I feel like i got fifty cars
Flow so sick thought he wrote the rap for him - no sir
Fame, money, and girls is what some people desire.
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