Palou

[HOOK] Palou on the dash, I’m laughin’ at the stress, White lines, Right signs, turn doubt into finesse. Money talk, Big walk, I move like it’s a show, My flag, mean swag, watch the whole building blow. Paperwork, casework, still winnin’ on the low, Boss tone, calm zone, but I’m jokin’ with the flow. Fast facts, cash stacks, we keep it buttoned though, Palou, that “how?”—then I’m gone before you know. [VERSE 1] Briefcase in the trunk, but the trunk smell like burnout, Clocked in at the office, then I dipped on the turnouts. Manager hit my phone, said, “Where you at?” I said, “Strategic,” Translation: I’m at the track bein’ petty, bein’ comedic. Saw Palou in the paddock, suit sharp, vibe sterile, I’m starin’ like a fanboy, tryna keep it all imperial. Asked for “best practices,” he smirked, “Brake late, stay tidy,” Then my brain got loud like, “That’s corporate for ‘get spicy.’” He signed my notepad, wrote, “Risk managed,” I’m wheezin’, My girl said, “You grown,” I said, “I’m grown, just geekin’.” Tried to act refined, but my laugh broke protocol, Security looked twice, I apologized in monotone. Then Palou flew by, made my ego do a backflip, I tripped on my own laces, still talkin’ like a diplomat