This is a song about "Race cars"

While in the distance i hear passing cars

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

It feels like a big race,

But i'm not in the first place

You pull up in parking lots

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

Made me loose faith on human race.

Driving my car to a foreign place

Run away from the cars...

And i'm still hurtin over pops

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

A fuck that we will never give is like our pops

Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

My magma hot bars race between the lines like a squad of cop cars