Testarossa Album Version

I'm your Testarossa. First gear, watch me go, keep 'em in fear. Rumble, young man, rumble. Brother won't fumble, motherfuckers just crumble. Yaks get dragged, rappers get spanked. Stripes get yanked, my superior rank. Most cops be jockin' some American car, usin' Lyrical radar. But I'm rollin', the cartel's Tollin', so the D's keep rollin'. Post-Cadillac rappers get left in the stirb by the Jet black blurb. Me, the Testarossa, Runnin' like a smosa. Don't try to get close Up, 'cause you might get lost in the dual Exhaust. Don't ever try to fuck with a boss. High octane, there ain't no ping when I swing On a lyrical speed king, and that's just first Gear. Listen for the upshift. Who can get with this? I'm your Testarossa. Hot black Testarossa. Hot in a jet black Testarossa. Hot in a jet black Tes- Testarossa. Hot in a jet black Test- Testarossa. Second gear, looka here, Queer. I'm in here, hittin' like spears. The rhyme cartel slangs legalized dope. Some cope, others get... Boss on the boss, his finish is flawless. Twelve cylinders, listen to the horses. I accelerate smooth. Move or else get moved. Run for cover, my brother, suckers are gettin' Smothered. A clutter, you others mutter, is rammed In a gutter. My rap is kept, motherfuckers must Step. The best get swept and left out to Rest. Look at that air intake. Second gear, passin' fakes. Revolutions per lyric get higher. How can I chill when my rhyme's on fire? As I approach the end of my tack, my Lyrical horsepower blows to the max. Red line is reached at the peak of my Speech, and I told ya I'm your Testarossa. Testarossa. Gear number three, get off clutch and don't let 'em up. Keep the pedal down on these young Bucks. Let 'em know the big boss is just A bit quicker. Get the picture? Back talk tolerated none, son. Left you at the gun when I hit gear One. Now I'm in third, and you think that's Quick? Huh, wait till I hit fifth. Me and my pack, we keep plenty of snack Packs. You said fat, now yo to the max. Mark mix-a-lot for your next attack. Now, yo, Critical Mass. Yeah, I got your back. Two hundred and sixty Pounds of pure pain. Critical Mass, my homeboy's name. My personal trainer, takin' weight gainer. Got the boss to crush and contain ya. On the track, I'm like a wind axe, cuttin' Up air like Boeing's aircraft. Time to shift and let my lyrical seat belt Hold ya. I'm your Testarossa. Down the street. Rollin' down the street. Down the street. Rollin' down the street. Up to fourth gear, the speed increase. Police got beef with the word chief. Prove or lose, I excuse the wack dudes. You light my fuse and clear out or get Used. I go a hundred and fifty-five. No need to lip-sync, I'm straight up live. So I rub gloves who wanna be tough. You're fussin' 'cause wearin' that Raider stuff. Fake fools from around the way know a damn Well you ain't from LA. I'll slander where you come from, son, till you Rattle. Like it or not, I scream straight up Seattle. Ripping streets with a lyrical sweep. Don't peep a creep or you'll lose your freak. The cams growl, engine loud. My tongue keeps beatin' 'em down. Rev it up, get ready for fifth. Just hit 'em with a maximum diss. I roll ya, fool ya, mold ya. I told ya I control ya. And I'm your Testarossa. I'm your Testarossa. Yo, Pun, show 'em what time it is. Gear number five, your eyes get wide. So realize that I survive and I rhyme for Mine. I wrote the dope, and is it comin' Up? Nope. I ain't the joke, so don't hope For my throat. There it is, the wiz gets Biz. A word quiz is what it is, and Mix don't give. Slack to the wack who act Like macks and try to jack or pop rap To hit the map. That ain't like me. It ain't cool to rob another fool then claim You rule. Your group will not need troops. You like juice, so you hit the stage wearin' My boots. Uh-uh, cupcake. I ain't about to get raped by a fake. Just look at the tail light shrink, and then Think how I left you pink in a lyrical Kink. Time to drop through my gears and then Stop, 'cause I locked the box on them clowns That chop. Turbo Conan, two hundred and thirty up On ya. I'm your Testarossa. I'm your Testarossa. I'm your Testarossa!