This is a song about "Houses weed cars"

Moving houses for supposed whores

So these bars not mine, nigga it's yours

Wear my hat to the back, i'm in a different kind of mood

Lit your houses on fire and deployed my parachute

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

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

And talk about houses that they’ve burned to grounds,

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

A hell of motherfucking road blocks

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

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

So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

I feel like i got fifty cars

While in the distance i hear passing cars

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props