This is a song about "Golden cars"

Jordan 4 seated floorside sitting with mars

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

When bret hart meet brett farve

Run away from the cars...

Ma words are like a golden medal on a golden plate

And we gonnna toast up for the niggas that hate

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,

And i'm man-genie, flyer than the rest of them

Played like a deck, your cards were golden,

Livin the fast life, in fast cars

Y’all niggas ain’t no stars

Got like a hundred cars

Bitch got all them booty shots