This is a song about "Weed and cars"

Started out with just alc and weed

Hot whips somethin cold on my feet

Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars

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

The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

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

I like bitches in air maxes without socks

Whiskey cigars and fast cars?

You dead broke, yes folks, the jewels are like egg yolks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

Then bossip for gossip, ybf in concrete

I used to sneak and smoke stress weed

All i know is yolo, nigga, that's the motto

The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,