This is a song about "Foreign cars fast money and rich bitches drugs"

Livin the fast life, in fast cars

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

Heard the sound of several gun shots

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

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

Rich hypocrites permit war on foreign lands

I got a green bag with them blue strands

I'm so over cryin, waitin and hopin playin the blame game

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

Addicted to stardom, a wish to blow

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,

With terms of release, bitches, money and yachts

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

Young money young money yeah we getting rich

Okay, i’m back off into this bitch