This is a song about "Money cars shoes"

Now you scratchin' on my back, i see your pleasure in my pain

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

You can't find your fucken shoes?

High as shit, i’m in a booth

Wayne told me that and that's just how it goes

They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Come and walk a mile in my shoes.

Yea, smoking loud enjoying my youth

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

When you spill out hits

Ali shaheed muhammad q-tip i'm trynna follow

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

Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes

Yesterday's paper, that's why you old news