This is a song about "Racing cars"

Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing

On the inside i'm shaking, epileptic brain and my hearts racing.

The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox

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

Haha niggas murdered this shit, know what i'm saying

Faggots hating so fast like lucifer was out racing.

All i can feel is my heart racing

Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe string

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

Rapping as i'm mocking deaf rock stars

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

Can't see his son shine like the four tops

I feel like i got fifty cars

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars

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