Lyric

Yeah !

Yeah !

Engine purring like it's praying to me

Watch

Leather grip, throne made of chrome and obsidian

Speedometer climbing—call it my obedience

To physics I'm bending, reality I'm testing

Every mile marker another confession they're confessing:

She moved through the traffic like a theorem proving itself

Six cylinders screaming—that's my mental health

Midnight petroleum, asphalt genuflection

I don't race the road, I give it misdirection

Rear-view irrelevant when you're the event horizon

Other drivers just extras in the film I'm writin'

(YEAH!)

Adrenaline's clinical, prescriptive, empirical

This velocity's lyrical, my trajectory's mythical

Queen of the asphalt, sovereign in motion

Bow to the burnout, that's your devotion

(SHE'S GONE!)

Fast ain't a feeling, it's a philosophical state

(TOO FAST!)

When I touch the throttle, I'm negotiating fate

Hundred-forty on the dash—that's my meditation

Every yellow line I cross is excommunication

From the ordinary, the pedestrian, the boring commute

I'm existential crisis in a leather suit

Bass hits visceral, shakes your skeleton loose

This ain't transportation, this precision abuse

Of the laws they wrote for people who obey

I'm Newtonian heresy, quantum in my DNA

(GO!)

Painted my mortality in tire-smoke calligraphy

Other women wave—call that matriarchy

I don't blow kisses, I blow past comprehension

This engine roar? That's my thesis defense, ascension

(LOOK AT HER!)

Cool as the moonroof open at a hundred-ten

(CAN'T TOUCH HER!)

Collected like I'm archiving every place I've been

Composed while decomposing every doubt they had

This confidence? Hereditary, chromosomally bad

They study my contrails like I'm atmospheric phenomenon

I'm gone before the sonics hit—call me beyond 'em

Streetlights strobing, epileptic applause

For a woman who treats velocity like natural cause

(SHE'S CRAZY!)

No—I'm clarity moving at relativistic speed

You just slow, domesticated, following the lead

Of whoever told you roads were meant for hesitation

I'm reclaiming tarmac, that's my reparation

For every time they told me stay inside the lines

Now I cross them diagonal—redefining signs

Navigation? Instinctual. Direction? Inevitable

This ain't driving, sweetheart—this is sexual

Rear lights fading like a lesson you won't learn

(GONE!)

Exhaust smoke scripture that you'll never discern

I was here—then wasn't—that's the gospel truth

Apex predator in premium, bulletproof