This is a song about "Driving cars and guns"

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

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

Standing flat footed, i’m on my toes

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

When you rapping how you rapping, bitches pack up and leave

Now the only guidance that i had is splattered on cement

And i'm prolly drunk driving crying where the fuck 5th went

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Who fly? i'm a red eye with eye drops

I ain't fucking with kfc but i may eat up the box

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