This is a song about "Hoes money cars"

My money fourth and long, but you do not get to throw

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,

Bitch i'm ballin' like i'm comin' off of free throws

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote

Sacrivicing your money for food on hoes you'll end up hungry and broke.

Got like a hundred cars

Watching for hollow-tip shots

Everything i wanted never seem so close

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

Hoes love me because of my cars

I hated, some ritalin, some white socks

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

See me i'm into hoes that's into hoes

And i'm the only fucking rapper without a chain

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,