This is a song about "Muscle cars"

Sb nike's, with the grey box

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

The you should look up in the stars

Got like a hundred cars

I go hard like a muscle my raps'll leave you puzzled

You wasn't fin' to dress all crazy no more and

You'll be missing work, and switching lanes, and hitting cars,

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

You'll be missing work, and switching lanes, and hitting cars,

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

I then gained a little muscle

Yeah come holla at your uncle