This is a song about "Staining cars"

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

Nobody rep for the skins, they busy cheering them stars

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

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Got like a hundred cars

More props. r.i.p., my poor pops

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

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars

Go continue staring at the sky,dream of expensive cars

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

While in the distance i hear passing cars

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Bail was a quarter mill, they put me in a box

We drive around in million dollar sports cars