Jump into the ride, take off the cover,
Step up the gas, Burnout some rubber,
Pull down the window, open the sunroof,
Let the air run in, from the overhead scoop.
Don’t you whine cuz I drive it in style,
Lots of hot babes, as I cover each mile,
Jet black tints, to hide what’s in,
Crates of beer, washing all my sin
Raging beats, thumping my chair,
Babes at the back but I just don’t care,
Cops or not, the throttle’s always floored,
When I freakin’ ride, you just can’t get bored
Underbody skirts, hotter than your face,
Open the cans, and drink without a trace,
Flashing lights, I don’t care no shit,
In my scheme of things, they just don’t fit
I play my music loud
And my dash is all wood,
Don’t step into the car
If you don’t know what’s in the hood.
4 comments:
pretty sick bro!
hi addy we had fun reading ur poem............keep going without babes n wine........
why without babes n wine ??? i dun wanna turn gay ryt ???
i dunno y mr.anonymous fell sick i personally like the imagery and one piece of advice (tho i maybe unqualified ) for mr. anonymous learn to look beyond the words the meaning as the poet says lie under the hood
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