Watch me go  keep 'em in fear
 Rumble  young man rumble
 Brother won't fumble  muthafukas just crumble
 Gaskets crank  rappers get spank
 Stripes get yank  a superior rank
 Won't stop the jock in some American car use a lyrical radar
 But I'm rolling  the cartel's tolling
 For the D's keep folding
 Most Cadillac rappers get look and disturb
 By the jet black blur
 Me  the Testarosa running like it suppose ta
 Don't try to get closer
 Cause you might get lost in the dual exhaust
 Don't ever try to fuck wit' 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 wit' this
 I'm your testarosa

 Second gear, look it here queer
 I'm in here, hitting like spears
 The rhyme cartel slings legalized dope
 Some cope, others get (gunshot noises)
 Lost on the boss, it's finish is flawless
 12 cylinders listen to the horses
 It accelerates smooth
 Move or else get move
 Run for cover my brother, suckers are getting smothered
 I ?cutted? you other ?smutters? rammed in the gutter
 My rep is kept, muthafukas must step
 The best get swept and let out to rest
 Huuuu, look at that air intake
 Second gear, passing fakes
 Revolution per lyric get higher
 How can I chill when my rhyme's on fire
 As I approach the end of my tach
 My lyrical horse power blows to the max
 Red line is reached to the peak of my speech
 And I told ya, I'm your Testarosa
 Testarosa

 Gear number three, get off the clutch and don't let 'em up
 Keep 'em all down on these young bucks
 Let 'em know big boss is just a bit quicker
 Get the picture
 Backtalk 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 snackpacks
 You said fat now I'm yo to the max
 Want Mix-A-Lot for your next attack
 Hey, yo, critical mass, yea, I got your gat
 Two hundred sixty pounds of pure pain
 Critical mass is my homeboy's name
 My personal trainer, taking weight gainer
 Got the bulk to crush and contain ya
 On the tach, I'm like a wind ax
 Cutting up air like Boeings aircraft
 Time to shift and let my lyrical seatbelt hold ya
 I'm your Testarosa

 Up to fourth gear, the speed increase
 Police got beef wit the word chief
 Move or lose, I excuse the wack dudes
 You light my fuse and clear out or get used
 I go 100 in a 55
 No need to lip synch, I'm straight out live
 So I'm rough lust who wanna be tough
 You fuss and cuss wearing that Raider's stuff
 Fake fools from around the way
 Knowing damn well, you ain't from LA
 Ashamed where you come from son, so you rattle
 Like it or not, I scream straight up Seattle
 Rip up streets wit a lyrical sweet
 Don't peep or creep or you lose your freak
 The cam's growl, engine loud
 My tongue keep beating 'em down
 Rev it up, get ready for fifth
 Just hit 'em wit a maximum dis
 I roll ya, fold ya, mold ya, I told ya I control ya
 And I'm your Testarosa
 I'm your Testarosa
 Yo Punish, show 'em what time it is

 Gear number five, you're eyes get wide
 So realize that I survive and I rhyme for mine
 I rope the dope and is he coming up, nope
 I ain't the joke so don't hope for my throat
 There it is, the whiz gets his
 The word quiz is what it is and Mix don't give
 Sight to the wack who act like Max
 And try to jack a pop rap to hit the map
 That ain't like me, it ain't cool
 To rob another fool them claim you rule
 You boot but not me, troops, you like juice
 So you hit the stage wearing my boots
 Uh ,uh cupcake, I ain't about to get rape by fake
 Just look at the tail light shrink and then think
 How I left you pink in a lyrical kink
 Time to drop to my gears and then stop
 'Cause I lock the box on them clowns that jock
 Turbo cone is 230 up on ya
 I'm your Testarosa(3x