This is a song about "Cars money girls"

Sb nike's, with the grey box

Run away from the cars...

She likes the way it hits her lips

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

She my billie jean we menage with mary jane

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

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,

Definition of cold: ice, 30 below

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots

That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,

Money, mansions, girls and golden retrievers

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years