This is a song about "Foreign doors n cadillacs"

Driving my car to a foreign place

Pull up on these 26’s, i’m a vanity slave

So i went down south but i ended up north

Just drop your guns and knock on heavens doors

Like 40 scores of foreign wars i bring the bombs

For multiple years, witness peers catch gunshots

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

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

Battlefront abingdon street breaking down their doors

They say the money talks and bullshit walks

Parachute in, bust down ya doors

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

They burn on every block

I always left doors slammed and locked,

Now me, stalley, and meek wanna see ross get the a-rod loot

That grow into foreign friends and eventually strange fruit,