intro: old school,lacs,delta 88's,box chevy caprices,monte carlos.
hook:big bodies ridin on twos and fours boss hogg and slammin big body doors,old school box chevys and lacs 88's with the room in the back so wathcu swangin in (x2)
verse one: box chevy caprices creepin on crome d's,they 17's but i keep my spokes clean,wood grain on the wheel,wood grain on the dash,peanut butter guts,wit a peanut butter rag.15's in the trunk,doin pricey in the back,ten clear coats a dat candy on factory black.no flakes in my paint,no flippin for me..i like it simple,so fresh and so clean,swangin from left to right,leanin, mean muggin foos,trunk rattlin like a snake till my woofers blow,i like my volume loud, i like my bass deep, i like my tweeters tweakin..so u can hear da beat,around the corna u hear my on the other street,but let me warn ya its murda in them backseats,thats how i ride foo,so take a ride w/ me cause when im gone its hard for yall to come and git me.
hook:(x2)
verse 2:look..give me a cut dawg,75 wit black tint,black paint and make way for the young pimp,old school trues and foes,and im good theres somethin in the trunk and somethin under the hood,never drive over 30 miles an hour dawg,u can come holla hoe,git in my passenger seat,and this ain't your moms car so when you gittin in.. wipe your feet,my interior imported come from another country,no head in the front seat u know how much this cost me,you lucky you ain't sittin on plastic,and you betta not fart or you gittin your ass kicked,take pride in my ride, i love her like a child im rollin up the avenue and them bitches are like WWWOOOW,but i don't pay em attention im rollin up to my nizzles like....
hook:(x2)
verse 3:check it,uhhh..bently 2004,i got 3 different cars,i payed for em,ima drive all them muh fuckas,i gotta have that boom,cause women love to knock,turn it up and i betcha i'll make that pussy pop,i gotta h2,the 24's turnin,ima stunna,so you gunna smell that rubba burnin,i got a need for speed i keeps dual exhaust.you hear that big truck commin nigga whos the boss,don't git caught up in the paint i picked cause i'll flip it in a minute,nigga money ain't shit.i shine harder then the average star,niggas might hate me but they love my car,lovin the way i sit on 24's and blow,cruisin through the hood like im pushin the love boat,sittin behind tint,like one of them presidents,and its evident anything else is irrelavent,if it ain't....
Bob Sinclar lyrics