Atmosphere

Caddy
I used to want the glamorous life That's probably unanimous, right We used to glorify the neighborhood hustlers Easily impressed by what's in between the bumpers The southside felt like an art gallery I knew I wanted that to be a part of my reality And even if I never get to own a caddy I wanna be the reason that there's soap in the alley C.A.D. is my dad's initials But he had the hots for the Buick Grand National That's why it's natural for me to interrupt To say, "If anybody's sellin' one, please, hit me up" My first car was a seven-deuce Impala Straight up, it only cost a few hundred dollars The red paint with all the surface rust Made it look like a pizza with a burnt-up crust So many hoopties, you knew I wasn't jokin' Drove the Mercury Grand Marquis that had the eyes that opened I had a Wagon, a Fairmont, a Bronco Another Impala with the double-bent window in the back Didn't matter if the doors were mismatched As long as the interior and trim was intact Stock stereo, original gas cap I still want the Cadillac Seville with the slantback I'm not a car person, per se But I personify my cars in a personal way I assign it a gender and I talk to it tender I don't know how to fix her, but I know how to kiss her From Letras Mania