This is a song about "Clean verson cars"

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

Nowadays usually it's his pockets

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

When bret hart meet brett farve

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Nobody rep for the skins, they busy cheering them stars

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

Niggas is working forever my bars

Hoes love me because of my cars

Mouth of midas so dreams are close clean

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

As: i know just what you mean

I'm rap like you simple and clean