Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.
When you spill out hits
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
Relax, take ya coat off, and let me getcha name
The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,
But i’m worth it though work this shit so perfect though
Can't see his son shine like the four tops
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Obviously oakland gangs ignore this carelessly
When i arrive the whole town gets sunny
I feel like i got fifty cars
And mine somewhere bout mars
Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,
Left chicago with good money for 5 drops
And gangs with specific crews, brother against brother,
You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for
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