This is a song about "Gta cars"

This ain't gta, grab that ak, brace and run this archaic district/

This audemar on my wrist, got it harder than missed

We drive around in million dollar sports cars

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

Got like a hundred cars

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

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

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

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

You'll be missing work, and switching lanes, and hitting cars,

Fuck the cops bitch, if they come up i'll then ignore cars,

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Never driving through the boulevard, full of future stolen cars

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

You'll be missing work, and switching lanes, and hitting cars,

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars