This is a song about "Foreign cars fucking bitches"

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she

Those bitches are on standby gasping fucking breathlessly,

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

I crawl up and down bitches legs like im a fucking caterpillar,

Just be there to help me and support me that's what you're here for

I'm love stoned from everywhere and she knows

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

Out here fucking bitches popping bands

But it made me the man i am today, thanks

Outta all them fucking fake bitches i thought you were the truest

Haters just hate but yet they don't know squat like a leg lift

Bitches on my lines i aint got no fucking time

I don't shop in the public, ain't finna wait in line

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

Together all the timethought it was true love