This is a song about "Foreign cars getting pussy"

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

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

When bret hart meet brett farve

Got like a hundred cars

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

Nobody rep for the skins, they busy cheering them stars

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

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

Backing up, like juvenile biggest fan was a moving truck

Only way yall getting pussy is if you call up a slut

Hoes row got beans in them

All my bitches be foreign

I style on new york, pile up my fork

Damn... my levels foreign wheres ya passport

Never use the word ours i'm living in the minute

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,