This is a song about "Weed pot girls cars dirt bikes"

Heard the sound of several gun shots

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

Without the racist hicks and ghetto thugs jackin' bikes,

My passport got stamped before a couple rhymes

Run away from the cars...

And when this beat drops, your heart stops

Slight work, light work

Got em deep in the dirt

I feel like i got fifty cars

Bitch got all them booty shots

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

While in the distance i hear passing cars

Spend the night with me, we'll talk and

All my bikes are covered in rust,

Snap crackle ackle, im high on pot

I get my cake; i love hip hop