The Crew 2

(Another one)

It isn't hard to make a bar with an homophone
I could do it in a bar while I'm on my phone
Own cars as a status symbol
Drum hard, look at the state of the cymbal
As well as drive, fly high, it's a cool principle
But I wanna see more skin, I'm a high school principal
No training wheels, I'm a grown adult (yeah)
You're someone who makes people groan; a dolt
I mean, oh my god, holy shit
I knew you were bad, but you're wholly shit
I forget, it's a lapse in memory (huh)
When I die, strip club funeral, sit on laps in memory (ha)
Now that's a ceremony, winning first place
As if everybody wouldn't have done it in the first place
I get berserk in a duel, carried away
Break the speed limit down the dual carriageway
Name something faster, be my guest
Nothing but an actual light beam, I guess
But mate, get too close, I do brake checks
Bank balance so big, I break cheques
But with all the race prize money that I accrue
I take on employees, hire crew
Slowcoach, I'm packing a high IQ
I smoke in traffic, when I'm high I queue
Whether four or two-wheeled
I'm equipped with more metaphors than a fellow ought to wield
Rally through the night to the misty morning
Your family crying 'cuz they missed you, mourning
I've traveled through time, battled and fought knights
You've just done a royale battle in Fortnite
You don't go backward, and neither forward
I'm working on a book, I need a foreword

This is the chorus of the song (The Crew)
It doesn't seem to be so long since (The Crew)
But I guess a sequel's overdue to (The Crew)
Take the same game, and then add a "two" to (The Crew)

Do please curb your enthusiasm, or I'll leave you on the kerb
You're in fear, see, as I'm fiercely cleaning my lights
Rub my lamp, sipping sloe gin
What I mean is I'm a speed genie, you're a slow djinn
So then (what), the ball's in your court (what)
You'd better have big balls or you're caught
Phwoar, hear my engine roar (grizzly)
Pull out your entrails raw (grisly)
Give me gore, no ifs or buts
I leave you with sore butts
Kick your nuts, below the waist (ha)
Your career's nothing, bub, a load of waste (ha)
I take it, it's plain to see
I'm taking this plane to sea
I'm a sick pilot, fly like a bird flew
You're just sick, could be swine or the bird flu
Turbine burning, turning the rotor
So get to work, it's your turn in the rota
From the West Coast to the Soviet bloc (what)
If you're trolling me, well, then so be it, blocked
Don't want what you're spamming, anyone can peddle wares
But can you slam it to the metal 'til the pedal wears?
Yes, wild animal, I'm well feral
Talladega Nights, Adam McKay, and Will Ferrell
As well as beating you down when we race the tracks
I delete your SoundCloud, erase the tracks
Leave your tyres slashed, you're Axl Rose
Crack your suspension, your axle rose
Straight over the J. Edgar Hoover Dam
Looking 'round like, "This place needs a Hoover, damn"
And soon, when we land, and they're closing the hangar
I put my flight suit with my clothes on the hanger

This is the chorus of the song (The Crew)
It doesn't seem to be so long since (The Crew)
But I guess a sequel's overdue to (The Crew)
Take the same game, and then add a "two" to (The Crew)