We get low and let them trunks lift up Ay ay ay ay
[Verse 1: Sir Michael Rocks] We all know Mikey aka the Great Estaré Banco Populair Looking rare homie, what's the skit So you could holla at me if you want me If you don't keep it rollin' Don't be droppin' names like a ton of bricks I'm in the '96 SL5 Update nothin' on that badboy The button stick when I be unlockin' it So I grabbed the Cutlass keys like a fuckin' thief Take a sweet, gut it, stuff it then we puff it baby The Baileys, mixed with Grandma ye' See we callin' it the "Grandmama" See, just like the Larry Johnson kinds In the huddle with the bubble goose down Downtime spent working on my rhyme schemes Them alpines hit like a young Rocky A skinny dude but I'm eating like I'm stocky Bucket seats 70's Challengers for the amateurs...
[Hook 2x] This is for them Regals, Granddaddy's Cutlasses Lincoln Town Vehicles, the speakers gon' love it The trucks is all low like I talked about his mother Drivin' around slow, like there's an accident or somethin' Ssssskkkkkurrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
[Verse 2: Chuck Inglish] Niggas will dump cigar guts into anything Piggy bank change, couldn't break it if the ground shake Earthquake shakin', San Andreas fault First-place trophy is the only way to race in them Talk to me dawg, please dont talk at me Thought I saw the credits runnin on with all that acting Wass happenin', Shirly, Rerun, Rosci See me with it now like they gotta get theirs tomorrow Ferraris? naaaa Phantoms? nope! Triple gold spokes on them Lincoln town cars Like back when I was driving to the mall where that Circuit City was Gotta get this installed
[Bridge: Chuck Inglish] That flip face touch screen remote control and all that Bass treble biz And it smells like a loud pack (Hit that AC fan) Strawberry air freshners to mix with the scent Shooting free throws for the win..