This is a song about "Cars money and bitches"

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

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

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

Are you afraid of a thug? and have you ever made love

I'm with your girlfriend eating chips

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

But all she ever want me to do is unzip her jeans

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

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

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

And i'm still hurtin over pops