The '96 Imp, yeah, the Chevy Impala

'86 Cutlass or the Monte Carlo

Before the Trailblazers, we had the Marauders

Your shit ain't runnin' like mine, we can't put up the title

Oldie fresh up out the paint shop, it's still wet

Tweak the motor a little more, then add the rims next

No tint, want 'em to see me, this a real flex

You tryna get me off this bitch, gon' cost a real check

Your paint drippin', ****, swing that bitch

Your trunk loud, ****, swing that bitch

Your motor runnin', ****, swing that bitch

I won the trophy this year, it's time to claim that bitch

I'm usually in the foreign, today I'm ridin' an Imp'

Pink Mauri gators on today, I feel like a pimp

Your car ain't runnin' like mine, today I'm talkin' my shit

Think otherwise, put up your title and we can meet at the strip

I'm gettin' it done inside out, that's why it's takin' a bit

I sent it back for a few touch-ups, you know how that get

Rick Ross car show, we need a section just for the clique

Know for a fact my **** Lou Gramm gon' take home the chip

Got 'bout two hundred in the Chevelle, he coulda bought a new whip

The trunk squattin' and the the back look like it's takin' a shit

Put plastic surgery in the back rim and added the lip

You see the pearl in the paint like when you open a brick

The numbers movin' on the dash, that's that digital shit

I'll pull up to your hood and kill it, you gotta witness this shit

If you ain't spend at least a quarter, then you ain't ridin' like this

You ain't ridin' like this, take that shit back to the shop, boy

The '96 Imp, yeah, the Chevy Impala

'86 Cutlass or the Monte Carlo

Before the Trailblazers, we had the Marauders

Your shit ain't runnin' like mine, we can't put up the title

Oldie fresh up out the paint shop, it's still wet

Tweak the motor a little more, then add the rims next

No tint, want 'em to see me, this a real flex

You tryna get me off this bitch, gon' cost a real check

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

Your paint drippin', ****, swing that bitch

Swang, swang, swang

Your trunk loud, ****, swing that bitch

Swang, swang, swang

Your motor runnin', ****, swing that bitch

Swang, swang, swang

I won the trophy this year, it's time to claim that bitch

Eight hundred horses in the hood with the launch control

Frame off, so you know I had to drop a lot of dough

Fuckin' 'round out the way-way, and just knocked some

If she ain't really with the yamsayin', then she gotta go

I ain't really do too much, but I dropped it though

Slidin' up Knob Hill, avoidin' the potholes

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

Pickin' up the ASE from Fremont

My new mate showed my shit was runnin', I ain't stressed about it (Good job)

A custom '87, bet that I don't touch at all (At all)

A green G350, wood grain and all (All)

Maybach, monoblock, might dust it off

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

Feelin' like a astronaut when I'm takin' off (Uh)

Feelin' like that ****, I might swing that shit (Uh-uh)

Fifty K cash on bumpers and fenders (Yeah)

Reverse cam on a '80s whip

Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

I don't think **** came like this

Oldie fresh, I'm 'bout to paint shop, it's still wet

Tweak the motor, a lil' more, then add the rims next

No tint, want 'em to see me, this some real flex

You tryna get me off this, bitch, gon' cost a real check

Swang, swang, swang, swang that

Your paint drippin', ****, swing that bitch

Swang, swang, swang, swang that

Your trunk loud, ****, swing that bitch

Swang, swang, swang, swang that

Your motor runnin', ****, swing that bitch

I won the trophy this year, it's time to claim that bitch

Dumps