Be it the early morning mist
or the bright and flashy light
of what should be a dark night
it doesnt dampen the ability of the wrist...
An open tarmac is treated as a red carpet
shredding a lil rubber everyday to keep her footwear sticky
going up and down through the gears
leaving behind all the damn fears...
Only concentrating on the fastest line
and a small meter with a needle and a red-line
swifting and sliding all along
leaving behind a cloud of smoke and dust
there is no end to our ever increasing lust...
Strapped in a body armour
zooming past everycommuter and poser
flashing lights at the oncoming lot
and changing lanes at the speed of thought...
Our machines working faster than the mind
still the perfet line isnt hard to find
the adrenaline rush on an all time high eliminates the need of any pacemakers
'cause at the end of it all, we are god damn street racers !!!
