Bass for Your Truck (Ant remix)
{*"Bass for your trunk" - scratched*}

She keeps her biz boomin' down front street
Open with the funk so that no one wants beef
She the type who like to lay it all on the line
Say what's on her mind
That way it ain't a crime
The crime is
Had you shown no shame
Had you make those claims like you play no games
When in reality
You the biggest player of them all
The princess that wore the most layers to the ball
Tryin' to cover up when you layin' in your drawers
You front like you a freak and everything you say is raw
But deep down
You really scared he's gonna leave ya
Your closet got more skeletons than the Dia
You worse than my perros
My dogs, that only fuck with broads from the ghetto
You date losers cause it make you feel superior
Try to tell me lies to justify but all I'm hearin' is the...
She seems like the type with no taste for shame
It walks like a snake then they can't complain
People love you and cling to them raw fumes
Keep it up so we don't see through your costume
She been a little queen since 15
In and out of different scenes, never kept her image clean
So critical
Over analytical
Fast forward
Of course, old and miserable
Long trail of bread crumbs and head games
Bed bums, the best ones get pet names
First glance you can see the dirt
Closet door wide open
No need to search
The truth is just an excuse
That you use to polish up a pair of selfish shoes
Take it how you want
Go face up the front
Cause them skeletons dance to the bass...

{*scratching "Drop that" "Bass"*}