This is a song about "Money cars cloths"

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

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

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

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

You know i’m stickin' to that proper code: strapped up, lock n load

I don't rock designer cloths, i rather rock and shock with that raiden robe

Got like a hundred cars

Like i'm only serving 20 rocks

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

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

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

Begin to make me feel like a little kid again

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

Get a little smart, want to change yo tops