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5 $tar hooptie - j-zone lyrics

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[intro: j-zone talking]
oh yeah! special dedication to all the people out there who’s car is a piece of sh-t. leaking all kinds of fluid. failing inspection every year. two inch rims. get your aaa cards ready baby. it’s a pimpmobile

[verse one]
f-ck it, i won’t lie, my ride is a joke
no pipes, no system, no rims, no spokes
a c-ssette got stuck up in the deck last week
so i keep a boombox on the p-ssenger seat
ac’s on strike so it’s murder in summer
no benz, no lex, i never heard of no hummers
duct tape keeps the seals in place
put your fingers on the kn-b, that’s the only way you feeling the b-ss
headlights is broke, so i stay getting tickets
cause i drive a piece of sh-t ride, but i stay getting b-tches
but lately, baby and puff done made it rough
my ’93 mazda protege, just ain’t enough
cause cats get on mtv cribs and floss
but every time i hit a bump my sh-t cuts off
and my broad run her mouth when she ride with a brother
cause i drown out usher with the sound of the m-ffler
last week i kicked a b-tch out for laughing and stuff
but she looked so cold when she was catching the bus
soda stains on the seats, no cushions
no pun intended, riding with me is a pain the -ss
but when i make a left turn, stick my hand out the window
the signal is broke, hood letting off smoke
they say a fly -ss ride pulls a chick a day
but the only ones i know work at aaa
hoes laugh at my ride so i’m treating ’em mean
rims only nine inches but i’m keeping ’em clean
want the truth? my car should be abolished and sh-t
f-ck a car wash dawg, that’s like polishing sh-t
so i be glad when it rains (why’s that?)
cause it wash away the bird sh-t stains
keep laughing at my car you’se a goner
my ride specialize in vehicular homicides like frogger

[hook]
every time i pull up in my protege
the sound of the engine scares the hoes away
no gas cause my pocket’s too slim to ball
systems all treble and the rims is small
so what i drive a piece of sh-t car, i’m balling!
girl give me the -ss, i’m a star, i’m balling!
even if the zone drive a nova, so what?
talk sh-t and i’ma run your -ss over

[verse two]
move b-tch, get out the way
that ain’t ludacris playing when i ride that’s just what they say
lying to these chicks when i’m back on the block
hey b-tch i’m only walking cause my ‘lac in the shop
and i get’s no love cause i’m driving a lemon
and in new york when you walk you can’t get no attention
then i met margo (whoo!)
the five star hoe
who owe me up the -ss if i drive a fly car so
i set a date for eight, looking good so far
but i only got the date cause i promised a car
(what you gonna do now?)
call my man tyheim up
a baller on the side, the brother drive ice cream trucks
borrowed his lex gs
picked up margo, the chick is the s-xiest
got slobbed way out in coney island
left her stranded
she probably got robbed so
now i’m laughing
the car hopping, gold digging broad she deserve it
now she gotta ride a bike home or sleep on the cyclone
forced to drive a hooptie so my game got tight
no rims but i’m pulling every dame in sight
it’s a junk mobile
just a hunk of steel
but you spill soda on the seats, you get punched for real
i’m leaking oil yo i’m out, more freaks to get
but i still keep an alarm on that piece of sh-t
c’mon

[hook]

fake it till you make it

[outro: girl talking]
hold up hold up hold up. i know you don’t expect me to ride in this piece of sh-t. where are your other three hubcaps? you have a tape deck? where’s the cd player? take your bootleg, pimp -ss to the dealership before you come see me

[j-zone]
well if you don’t like my ride…you can walk. or catch the bus. ya beeotch!

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