This is a song about "Money cars gucci armani"

Bitches choosing their excuses: my new car’s to blame

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

Pop a squat sitting on a gucci couch

Bitch i'm in the building you ain't even in the lounge

I’m the king of rock, there is none higher

That's like gucci to tommy hilfiger

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

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

Fortunado, the porsche apollo, wars'll follow

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

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

I feel like i got fifty cars

Driving so gucci, move over, you never i never need brakes

You think that we was learnin' from other rappers' mistakes

And i'm still hurtin over pops

Got like a hundred cars