This is a song about "Future cars"

Say bye bye to her

To find that better future.

Got like a hundred cars

You pull up in parking lots

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

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

Drive real fast when i'm in my cars

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

We drive around in million dollar sports cars

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

Never driving through the boulevard, full of future stolen cars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars