Undercover Weapon

Intro
Black paint
Stock wheels
Looks plain
But it kills (yeah)

Chorus
Undercover weapon
Sleeping on the curb just resting
Nothing on the badge, no flexing
But it leaves big toys just guessing
Undercover weapon
Mild on the eyes, then it’s pressing
Watch ’em all fade in a second
They don’t know they lined up
With an undercover weapon (weapon)

Verse 1
Bone stock shell, that’s a blessing
Pop that hood, whole script resetting
Block bored out, forged heart, deep breathing
Cool flow tucked, keeps the heat from leaking
Silent spool, low whistle, no screaming
Stealth pipes, deep tone, still sneaking
Cold air pulling through a sleeper face
Hidden fangs tucked tight in the intake

Parts list written in a plain old notebook
Code names, nothing that a rookie could look up
Coilovers wound low, but I dial ’em tight
Camber just right, keep the contact biting
Fat sway bar, back end glued
Poly in the arms, every joint renewed
Stiff bushings, front end on edge
Turn in sharp like it’s cutting an L-edge

Chorus
Undercover weapon
Sleeping on the curb just resting
Nothing on the badge, no flexing
But it leaves big toys just guessing
Undercover weapon
Mild on the eyes, then it’s pressing
Watch ’em all fade in a second
They don’t know they lined up
With an undercover weapon (yeah)

Verse 2
Big brake bite under basic rims
Slotted rings hiding in the shadows dim
Stainless lines, pedal feel like code
Grip in the rain, still holds that road
Compound pads with a quiet face
Dust wiped down, keep the stock look safe

Short throw shift, clean clicks, no drama
Sleeper seats, plain cloth, not Prada
All black dash, just gauges peeking
Boost at the ready, but the voice stays meek and
Alignment sheet reads like a race plan
Toe set straight, trust the straight-line game plan
Sticky tread, sidewall stiff
Roll out calm, then it snaps, then it lifts

Family sticker on the glass in the back
But the map in my head sees every straight, every track
Two-ton trucks think they own that lane
Chrome V logos wanna play that game
Green light drops, they stomp and shout
I stay calm, half-throttle, then I open it out
Hear ‘em fall behind like a bad connection
Signed: “From your friendly
Undercover weapon” (skrrt)

Chorus
Undercover weapon
Sleeping on the curb just resting
Nothing on the badge, no flexing
But it leaves big toys just guessing
Undercover weapon
Mild on the eyes, then it’s pressing
Watch ’em all fade in a second
They don’t know they lined up
With an undercover weapon (undercover weapon)