My Pimp-Mobile

Breaks still squeakin and the paint still peelin,
Like a defense mechanism, nobody gone be stealin,
Floor real dirty just like on the ceiling,
Don’t even matter, this is what i eat my meals in.

Make so much noise you’ll hear it from your home,
Shake so bad it’ll rattle your dome,
Don’t get mad, don’t want to hear that tone,
Who you think you talking to, I’m Tyrone.

Don’t need a chorus, the van keeps the beat,
Backfiring just like I’m packin heat,
Buckle up nigga don’t fall out ya seat,
I got the sickest van on the street.

My van is nasty, make ya feel inferior,
Seats real bad just look at the interior,
Big white n’ pink, children find it scarier,
If it breaks down I can use it as a barrier.

It’s a beast under the hood, pullin bout twenty horses,
Too damn big, can’t use on stunt courses,
Gas guzzler, wastin resources,
Dripin lots of oil, i think you know the sources.

So i ride in my van, yes it’s nineteen years old,
Engine runs hot, keeps me warm in the cold,
If you ride with me you got to be bold,
“Man that shit is ballin,” thats what I’ve been told.

My Pimp-Mobile

BigTyrone

Alexandria, United States

  • Artist
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