This is a song about "Money hoes cars"

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Watching for hollow-tip shots

Bitch i'm ballin' like i'm comin' off of free throws

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

50 dollars on some shoes you ain't ever seen

Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine

You chasing hoes, we replacing hoes, bag and pass them hoes

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.

Let's enjoy our younger years

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

See me i'm into hoes that's into hoes

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

Hoes love me because of my cars

The you should look up in the stars