This is a song about "Ford mustang"

And you can tell by the chiseled horns on my forehead bitch

Take some inventory, in this gorge there's a ford engine, door hinge

Whitey here, but don't misconstrued me with the ford,

Dad wasn't around -- my father figure was too short

Black honda accord slash four door ford until the drivers are flattened

But every other part of you make me wanna depart and

You're goin' to hear this and begin to ride on my dick

Tom ford tuscan leather smelling like a brick

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

Too good in between the sheets in the mustang now we call em love seats

And that's word to my nigga bad boy

Henry ford, paul revere, i destroy

Their leather seats in the two-door mustang shit…

They say, trojans never break but it ain't that