I found my sweetheart at bone stock.
But knew she needed more.
I hopped her up with a stamped big block and .60 over bore.
Tranny's stock. True miles on clock. She chirps them in third gear.
The front brakes might be OEM.
But I have no idear.
We try our luck in Brooklyn.
Clean up in Nanuet.
We take their cash in Newark.
We haven't lost there yet.
Detroit lockers help a lot.
I'm glad I put one in.
Open pipes release the snot,
And welcome gas back in.
No one knows my secret stash,
Unless they're upside down.
I've got nitrous bottles in the dash.
My front wheels leave the ground.
We take their cash in Newark.
We never lose a bet.
I find myself in court.
I haven't won their yet.
I've got to bite the bullet.
I've got to cut my mullet.
Not yet!
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