This is a song about "Money rich cars bars"

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

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

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

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Got like a hundred cars

Sb nike's, with the grey box

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box

While in the distance i hear passing cars

I am marvin with mind, but i listen to wayne

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

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

If you know like i know, you should lie low

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds

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

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