Rice, Rice, Baby!
Yo, VTEC, lets kick it,
Rice Rice Baby, Rice Rice Baby...
Alright stop - collaborate and listen,
Rice is back with a brand new invention.
Chopped springs, they hug tha road tightly,
6 inch exhaust tip flows really loud nightly.
Will it ever stop, yo,
I don't know,
hit my neon lights and I'll glow.
... To tha extreme my car looks like a candle,
and tha paint job - it was done by a vandal.
Dance, I got a speaker that booms,
this aint a car, it's a mobile sound room.
Deadly,
listen to tha melody,
if it was louder yo, it'd be a felony.
Love it or leave it you can't gain way,
with my Type-R sticker I'll lose you any day.
If there was a problem yo I'll solve it, check out
my rims while my front drive revolves it,
Rice Rice Baby, Rice Rice Baby...
Now that my suspension is jumpin',
my bumber hits tha ground, but who cares I'm a thumpin.
Quick to tha point, to tha point no fakin',
cookin' mopeds like a pound of bacon.
Burning 'em, cause I'm quick and nimble,
you can't fade me and my VTEC symbol.
In your souped up GN or 5.0...
I'm on a roll,
I always ride solo.
Rollin', in my 2 point 0,
it runs low 18's, yo, that really ain't slow.
Tha girlies on stand by,
don't even want to say "Hi".
Did ya stop? No, I just flew by.
Kept on, pursuing to tha next block,
I bust a left and I'm headin' to tha next stop.
The block was dead, yo, so I continued to A-1-A,
Detroit Avenue!
Tha girls looked hot wearing less than bikinis, I
saw a few chumps drivin' stock Lamborghinis.
Jealous, cause I'm out drivin' mine,
ready to race 'cuz my Nittos lookin' fine.
If there was a problem, yo I'll solve it,
check out my rims while my front drive revolves it,
Rice Rice Baby, Rice Rice Baby...
Take heed, 'cause I'm a Honda poet,
Akimoto's on tha scene just in case ya didn't know it.
My exhaust tip, created all tha bass sound,
rumbles enough to put holes in tha ground.
'Cause my ride's style is so reeeeeeeeeeeeal, with
an exhaust tone that ya can feeeeeeeel.
4 foot spoiler, it's a helluva concept, my ride is
hype, and you wanna step
WITH THIS.
In my rearview you'll fade,
slice like a Ginsu -sounds like a Kitchen-Aid.
So fast, that all tha V8's say "damn", if rice was
a drug I'd sell it by tha gram.
Keep my composure when the front tire breaks loose,
magnetized by the kick of 30 horse juice.
If there was a problem, yo I'll solve it,
check out my rims while my front drive revolves it,
Rice Rice Baby, Rice Rice Baby...
Yo, we outta here...
E-Brake burnouts to your mother!