Yo, what’s luv when the Henny talk louder than vows?
Twin 40s on the dash, we ghost-racin’ the clouds.
Ashanti in the passenger hummin’ my sins,
pearls on her neck, every bead a grenade pin.
Ja whisper in her ear like prayer與curse的blend,
we love like we shoot—never miss, never mend.
Bronx night bleed blue on the platinum fender,
if loyalty’s kilos, I’m forever your vendor.