Pushing the engine to the red line
Exhaust rumbling, gasoline guzzling
Stomping on the gas pedal
Heavy metal blasting through the stereo
Last action hero just found a needle in a haystack
And we all know the chances of that
Scratch like an alley cat, swinging like a battle-axe through the streets of the city
The same roads that once flowed like the Mississippi
Thank God, didn’t need the coast guard to come and get me
The water didn’t get that high where I was living
But presently ya boy been chilling
I put the Cut, dog, in the shop to T-top the ceiling
Reeling in this bitches because they feel me in my lyrics
I never talk it if I don’t live it because that will get you picked apart by critics
We do it in the dark and [?] but in will come the light in a matter of minutes
I give it to ‘em, real shit, minus the gimmicks
From skateboard kids to stovetop chemists
A lot of n***as hear it but hate on it because they fear it
Waiting on the album and it’s almost finished
Gotta put the lock on the column of steering
Because n***as see your old school and wanna get in it
Just heard the gun store was having a clearance
Buy every gun and bring it back to the building
Reinforce this motherfucker like it’s a fortress
In case a n***a pull a [?] while I’m recording
Goons in the room and they will be waiting for them
You don’t want to get an applauding from this audience
It’s nonsense if you talking of coming for the kid
I hit your hoe with different strokes like the Drummond kids
Roll through the club with two blonde haired chicks
My hood n***as thought I was with the Olsen twins
Because I do it so big on a 100 yard field I would still not fit