TMH - Hooligan Cullinan

Black color in rolling through the night.
Leather seats in the interior light.
V12 burning like a beast in chains.
Down the asphalt down the lanes.
They see the grill.
They know the name.
One look tells them I ain't playing games.
This ain't a car.
This is a throne.
Street hooligan.
But I'm in a zone.
Money speed boss heavy hands.
Streets expand.
Watch the weaklings understand.
Champagne cool in the cup holder.
Every move gets bolder and bolder.
S Taylor are froze.
This the life that the real ones chose.
Backseat business front seat pleasure.
Every mile counts.
Every drive's a treasure.
They hate the shine.
If the power just laugh and press the throttle for an hour.
Street expand.
Watch the weakings understand.
Like a nothing that's understood I'm the king of the concrete the prince of the night.
Won't push the battle I'm out.
They ask the price.
I tell them don't ask.
This level of power ain't no simple test.
Every scratch on the pain is a story I own.
Every mile on the dash is a war about grown.
So let them talk while I ride in silence.
I'm no need for violence.
My presence alone is a warning sign.
You looking and the throne is money heavy road streets expand.
Watch the weaklings on understand.
No looking back.
Calling please.
I'm in the black phone.
One name echo just that's a fact.
Who again coming in?
Streets obey no discussion.
Who again coming in?
Luxury and pure destruction.
Who coming in?
Silent power violent function.
Who coming in?
Game over.
I'm the junction.
Heat.