This is a song about "Money cars and girls"

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

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

Its way different ma you see em passin' out bars

And shrimp might run and tell the pigs

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

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

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

Spit that knowledge, and peace my girls,

Baby moms on greyhound for 8 hours

Bitch got all them booty shots

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Fame, money, and girls is what some people desire.

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her