Can't see his son shine like the four tops
I feel like i got fifty cars
That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
Run away from the cars...
The you should look up in the stars
Watching for hollow-tip shots
I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars
Whiskey cigars and fast cars?
Heard the sound of several gun shots
Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars
Left chicago with good money for 5 drops
In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars
Run through the forest, run away from the cars,
Hoes show me love, niggas give me props
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
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