This is a song about "Whip in kitchen fast cars trap house"

This my zombie circus, you better get a fuckin' ticket

- with navy seals clips and some shovels in the whip

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

Fast lives inside shiny cars, buyin' bars out when we stars,

Drive real fast when i'm in my cars

And i'm still hurtin over pops

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

We drive around in million dollar sports cars

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

While in the distance i hear passing cars

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

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

Make meals in hell’s kitchen with these dishes

When they showed up at your door at christmas

Standing in the kitchen

They had a hell of a run