Grinding harder than a Buick, '70s frame, Bad rotors screeching, but I'm still in the game. Worn-out pads, no stopping this flame, Leaking brake fluid, leaving marks on your name. Oil drip trail like I'm marking my land, Hydraulic pump bust, but I still take a stand. Rattling, shaking, but my drive don't bend, Old school hustle, ain't no need to pretend. Can't nobody stop me, can't nobody slow me, Rolling through the block, yeah, the struggle made me holy. Leaking on the pavement, the grind won't forsake me. Spit sharper than a razor in a barber's chair, Cut you down clean, ain't no love to spare. Bouncing through the hood with my shocks all shot, But my bounce-back game always hits the right spot. Your rhymes crusty, stale like old cornbread, I'm the chef in the kitchen, got your ego fed. Engine growls louder than a lion's roar, On this dirty south grind, always wanting more. Who gon' stop me? Ain't no red lights here, Grinding through the chaos, ain't no fear here Wheels might wobble, but the path stays true, I'm the poet in the south, an I'm coming for you. Grinding harder than a Buick on bad rotors, Brake pads screeching, dreams in the cup holders. Leaking brake fluid, but I’m still coasting, On this dirty asphalt, my words be roasting. Sharp pen slicing, a poet’s precision, Every line a cut, incision on incision. Challengers crumble,gears locked tight, I’m the tow truck pulling careers from the fight. Can’t nobody stop me, can’t nobody slow me, Wheels might wobble, but the grind stay holy. Leaking my truth, dripping raw from the crown, Rattling the game like a loose tailpipe, Flow heavy as a trunk packed tight with spite. I’m the speed bump smashing your weak ambition, Y'all stalled out while I’m on a fast ignition. Mirror, signal, maneuver through the shade, Lane-switch quick while the weak ones fade. Engine growling like a beast uncaged, My rhymes hit harder than a two-ton rage. Oil stains trail where I’ve been before, Blueprints left on this broken-down floor. Dust and grime on the map of my climb, Y'all spin in circles, my lyrics burn through time.

70's Buick On Bad Rotors