This is a song about "Cars"

With reality defeating n leaving scars guns shot from cars

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

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

While in the distance i hear passing cars

So it’s more for me, she invited me in her mouth

Dreamin big wanna have nice cars big house

Memories of stolen cars swervin down abandoned blocks

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

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Yeah, tell me about the love of ours

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

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

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

We drive around in million dollar sports cars

I like bitches in air maxes without socks