This is a song about "Wee cars"

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

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

Sb nike's, with the grey box

Livin the fast life, in fast cars

With reality defeating n leaving scars guns shot from cars

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

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

Don't let them free, beat them till they wee' 'n' agree,

With your flashlight, tell me what do you see

Trying to get you hot and wet you know jacuzzi that shit

Go wee-wee in the potie, wipe your ass and flush it

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

Memories of stolen cars swervin down abandoned blocks

I'm a wee bit efficient with the lines of my lyrics. getting sent to prison for

But fuck that, cindi was my dope fiend motherwelfare checks never stepped through the front door