Testo Caddy 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