This is a song about "Racing cars"

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

While in the distance i hear passing cars

We drive around in million dollar sports cars

I'm an eskimo, nigga, i got cold bars

My brain is fuckin racing shit i'm spacing like a plain nut

Drinking liquor and i'm looking for some hoes to fuck

Go continue staring at the sky,dream of expensive cars

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

Hustle game incredible, ice game amazing

Nothing making sense all my thoughts racing

Faggots hating so fast like lucifer was out racing.

And i bet you all them letters in your mailbox waiting

I feel like i got fifty cars

When bret hart meet brett farve

The clock is still racing

Bang! bang! came from that movie ring