money and nice cars

Hopped over the fence, where the grass way greener

 

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

 

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

 

And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth

 

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

 

Keep it real and don't sell out for all the paper and the cars,

 

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

 

In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars

 

Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,

 

But i'm a hustler, in my heart, trapped is the game

 

I'm love stoned from everywhere and she knows

 

Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,

 

Whiskey cigars and fast cars? Bitch got all them booty shots

 

But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",

 

You think that we was learnin' from other rappers' mistakes