This is a song about "Cars money and bitches"

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

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

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

And shrimp might run and tell the pigs

See my team has hella cars, i got a couple knots

With terms of release, bitches, money and yachts

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

He said he needed a come up, because selling nicks' was lame

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

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

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes

I don't care about the nice cars and shoes with the leather,

I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her