This is a song about "Foreign cars money drugs"

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Man this is so bullshit, i'm so mad i ma knock you in two hits

And try to deplete foreign populations creating complications.

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Run away from the cars...

I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

And i have forsaken my marriage, now she gon take me for loot

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

Down in miami, with a super ho team

Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine

Got like a hundred cars

Bitch got all them booty shots