This is a song about "Forgin cars"

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

Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Odd future wolf gang, wolf gang presents

All i need is moola cars and friends

I feel like i got fifty cars

Like i'm only serving 20 rocks

Got like a hundred cars

When bret hart meet brett farve

Hoes love me because of my cars

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

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

Nobody rep for the skins, they busy cheering them stars

With reality defeating n leaving scars guns shot from cars

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots