This is a song about "Motorbike racing streets"

When you're reachin' your dreams

You're walking these streets,

Nothing making sense all my thoughts racing

Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe string

Ass shots in her seven jeans

I kept runnin through the streets

Streets became home to me/ like a mother to be/ the streets

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

Pacing, racing on this track like horses, nigga, place ya bets,

When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz

You're walking these streets,

Little more weed, first class seats

I'm looking for a hiding station and my heart is racing

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

Sleeping in a cell, it's been 30 weeks

Played our beats on the streets