This is a song about "Money and fast cars"

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

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

Okay you have em in amazement; switching four lanes

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

The faker they shakin' my hand

Bars coming nice and fast

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

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

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

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

Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.

This song about you, then you probably need to leave

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

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

Everything was picture perfect till you moved the frame

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