This is a song about "Money hoes cars"

All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/

Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars

No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose

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

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

And i move across your membrane, you loose against my insane

Got like a hundred cars

When bret hart meet brett farve

I'm an eskimo, nigga, i got cold bars

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most

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

Cause of death? bars

Run away from the cars...

Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes

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