"Grand Turismo" lyrics - TERMANOLOGY

[Intro:]
Shout out to Spitter, Scribble Scratch Records
He wanna call the album that
My man Term said "Call it Grand Turismo"
Classic shit, baby

I stay whipping a Lexus, different women, I'm reckless
Making records with legends, taking checks for my message
My hands glistening, man, listen, I'm ambitious
My plan different, competition is nonexistent
Let's keep it real, my steering wheel is my realest homie
My wheels are chromey, I'm on the go but my children know me
My pinky ring is looking just like a wedding band
I'm getting bands, that's several grand, look at your man
Fuck a lunch, my brunch pussy and pancakes
My eyes red like the brakes, flakes up in my paint
Lap dances while I'm writing, my life is exciting
I asked KiKi if she love me, she told me she riding
Sixty-seven Eleanor with the metal doors
Heavy bread of course, gold shield like the Porsche
Hit the switch on the air ride, it's land mines
Riding through them hoods with colors and hand signs
Now that's a don, they crowned me for how I rap on songs
Google my catalog, thirty-five atom bombs
My pen fire, that's how I built me an empire
Mass' legend, Reggie Lewis, Len Bias