This is a song about "Foregin cars"

Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

Run away from the cars...

Cause of death? bars

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

Memories of stolen cars swervin down abandoned blocks

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

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

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

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

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

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

Got like a hundred cars

And i'm still hurtin over pops

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

Dreamin big wanna have nice cars big house