This is a song about "Bass guitars"

Tell em bitches they can get up on my level

The records been set, crank the bass and treble

When my competition ain't much

Bass drop, low end is a gut punch

On guitars no codeine in this resort we destroy

Keep your mouth close, you fucking with a dope boy

Making his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit

Blast the music up loud, crank the bass, smokin' chronic,

Just walking, it bounces like the bass in my trunk

And you would think that i’m european, my tribe different

(verse 1 starts when bass starts)

Tire marks, tire marks

And then the bass drops, and my face nods,

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box