Busted

My own damn car is dead, sittin' sad in the street
So I call up my grandma, 'cause she can't be beat
Eighty-three years old, but she's built to fuckin' last
Said"Yeah, baby, take the Buick, just don't drive it too fast"
Her '93 LeSabre, a boat of beige and chrome
Smells like mothballs, peppermints, and"leave my ass alone"
The driver's seat is vinyl, got a plastic cover too
I'm just tryna get 'cross town, got some shit I gotta do
Feelin' good, got the windows down, Ice Cube on the tape deck
Just a simple Tuesday, what the fuck could go wrong? What the heck
Then the rearview mirror fills with red and fuckin' blue
A pig on my ass, what the hell did I do?
He pulls me over, slow and steady, kills my whole damn vibe"Ma'am, your right taillight is out" is his condescending diatribe
He's walkin' 'round the car, sniffin' like a damn bloodhound"I'm gonna need to search the vehicle. Don't make a fuckin' sound"
Oh, shit. My heart drops. This ain't my damn car
Now I'm gonna get busted for whatever's in this land yacht from afar
He pops the glovebox open, and my blood runs fuckin' cold
The first thing that he pulls out makes my whole damn story sold
A Ziploc bag of green shit, a quarter pound at least
I'm thinkin' fast"That's.. Nana's herbal tea, for her inner peace!"
The cop ain't buyin' my bullshit, gives me a dirty look
Keeps diggin' through the clutter like a goddamn picture book
He pulls out something heavy, with a metallic, evil shine
A big-ass pair of brass knuckles, now my life is on the line
But the final fuckin' item, the thing that seals my fate
Is a wholesale pack of G-strings, and it ain't even first-rate
Counterfeit as hell, the tag says"Calvin Kline"
What the fuck is goin' on with that grandma of mine?
The rearview mirror's flashin, red and fuckin' blue
The pig's on my ass, now he's found Nana's whole crew
Of contraband and bullshit, killin' my whole damn vibe"Ma'am, you got a lot to explain" is his condescending diatribe
He's holdin' up the evidence, standin' by my car
Now I'm gonna get busted for these contents, so bizarre
The cop stands there, bewildered, holdin' all the weird-ass loot
A bag of stanky weed, some fake thongs, and a knuckle for a boot
He says"Ma'am, what is this?" and I gotta think up quick
Gotta defend my Nana's honor, lay it on real thick"Look, officer, my grandma.. she's from a different, harder school
The knuckles are for tenderizin' meat, that's her number one kitchen rule"
He raises a damn eyebrow"And the marijuana?""That's for her arthritis, man, I swear upon my honor!""And the thongs?" he asks, disgusted. I just shrug and play it cool"That's for her damn bridge club, they got a Secret Santa pool
I'm just the fuckin' driver, man, a simple, trusted courier!"
The cop just stares. At the weed. At the thongs. At the brass
He's too fuckin' confused to even be a hard-ass
He shakes his head, sighs, and hands me a ticket for the light"Just.. go. Get this car home. And stay out of my sight"
I'm drivin' off, five miles an hour, my hands are shakin' bad
My grandma's the realest G I've ever fuckin' had
But straight up.. I ain't ever borrowin' this whip again
Fuck. That. Shit.