This is a song about "Muscle cars"

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars

Hoes love me because of my cars

Ya'll had your run, don't ruin ours

Look, she love me from them poems, and them songs, in my zone

Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone

I'm like roots, you a new shovel

Of which we lack muscle.

While in the distance i hear passing cars

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

You pull up in parking lots

I feel like i got fifty cars

They ain't got no muscle you would think they was weightless.

And nowadays niggas stand behind em like clive davis

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars