This is a song about "Drugs money cars london albanians"

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

I feel like i got fifty cars

When bret hart meet brett farve

Representing grimsby mother fuckers not the london town

But i apologize for not walking you around

Money, drugs, and power rule the world,

Back like i never ever left in the first

Od'd on that mitchell-ness you thought it was '03 again

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

The .45 for you niggas with nine lives

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

While in the distance i hear passing cars

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