This is a song about "Girls and cars"

Spit that knowledge, and peace my girls,

But we still real brothers

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

She got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick

Girls, traffic and some things tragic

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

Together all the timethought it was true love

Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

The answer is the lord like saturday night fever

On award tour, on excursions, i'm a virgin of swap meets

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds