German Whip (Wideboys Remix)

Driving a German whip
Driving a German whip
Yo!

If you see man driving a German whip
Blacked out window, leaning back
See man driving a German whip
Look like a baller, Ps and that
I don't kick ball, do I look like a baller?
See man driving a German whip
Who told you I move like pauper?
See man driving a German whip

See man driving a German whip, nah, but I ain't leaning back
Windows down when I'm cruising past, I be like "guten tag!"
Man better know that it's me in this car, first MC that you see in this car
Brand new CLA, gun metal grey, feds looking at me like I shouldn't be in this car
Blud, I could take this old school, me and Dan broke, sitting on a cold wall
Now I'm in a showroom and the car's got a sheet on it, looking like a kid that don't wanna go school
Like Jme I've gotta stack paper, so I signed my life to the music
I was in a Smart Car, now my car's stupid, German whip but I ain't in Munich

I have got a German whip, my whip is German, my whip is the sickest
When I'm reversing is the only time when I drive that I ever abide by the speed limit
Ooh, am I raw, like driving fast? You and I both
Swear down I could have sworn I just saw Brian Harvey in a car with suicide doors
I was just out driving, nearly hit a lady and her shopping
Wait a minute, hold on, wasn't that? Oh my God, it was Katie Hopkins!
I reversed and I hit her, but then I woke up from my dream
Shame it wasn't for real, guess I still get a little defensive if anyone says anything about Lil

Rings on the front, rings on the back
Whip that German, leaning back
And I ain't talking 'bout the trap, but I still got Ps and that
Knock off the tint, fishbowl ting
Skengman mode, Frisco ting
Light up your head, Sisqó ting
See the Bloodline, yeah we go in
Can't talk to me about torque, if you're driving less than a sport
Don't talk to me about brake horse
If the car's slow you might as well walk
Chrome exhaust, look like a baller, yeah of course
German whip I can't go off course
Tell them man they better know who's boss

When I drop an album, I ring a chauffeur, say drive the whip round
When you drop an album, man are so poor that you need a whip round
Skepta knows I don't follow anybody, I drive my life by choice
Sunk my teeth right into the game and I found a biting point
Yeah, brain to mouth, mouth to mic, mic the track and you listen
Yeah, what I'm saying is that I drove from 0 to top 10 in around three minutes
I don't push or pedal but I still accelerate, break that limit
A lot of my friends still sell Class-As, but I'm sitting in an A-Class singing



Credits
Writer(s): Lawrence Thomas Clarke London, Koffi-manou Wilfred Kouassi, Jme, Big H
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link