This is a song about "Money cars pot bandz"

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

So i guess that's where i hide my things

And mine somewhere bout mars

I feel like i got fifty cars

And it is to drive in all these fancy cars

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

Run away from the cars...

When bret hart meet brett farve

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

I am marvin with mind, but i listen to wayne

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

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

I make her cum a lot

Settle down maybe grow some pot

Just searching for the perfect shot

Get it hot in the pot