This is a song about "Food cars hoes bros"

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

Fortune, fame, cars, hoes are tens, nobody's tense,

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

I like bitches in air maxes without socks

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

Hoes and bros and average joes chillin' like a sick villain,

And eating you like a cannibals dinner food

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

While in the distance i hear passing cars

Jordan 4 seated floorside sitting with mars