Thouxanbanfauni – American Muscle (Audio, Lyrics, Visualizer)

Watch the visualizer, read the lyrics, stream, listen, mp3 download, buy “American Muscle” by Thouxanbanfauni. The song was produced by Scott Slatt.

Thouxanbanfauni American Muscle

Muscle cars are a staple of Americana at this point. From Mustangs to Chevelle’s to Dodge Challengers, the muscle car has always been a symbol of not just wealth but in some ways aggression. If you own a muscle car, it shows people that you are a person who is not to be messed with. Rapper Thouxanbanfauni understands this concept very well as he raps about this style of an automobile on his new track “American Muscle.”

Throughout the song, we are provided with a lowkey beat as Thouxanbanfauni provides bars that are in direct correlation to American Muscle cars. Of course, he also sprinkles in some car-heavy metaphors to tie the entire track together.

Thouxanbanfauni – American Muscle (prod. Scott Slatt)

Watch Visualizer

Lyrics

[Chorus]
’93 Chevy, red Chevelle, damn, nigga, what?
Turbo thrusters, main straight down the hill, feeling fuck
Playing chicken, doing burnouts, hitting donuts, pulling up (TTB)
Sixteen, grand theft auto, chopshop for some bucks
She a lady, treat her like it, then get broken by a slut (Bitch)
People push your buttons but it’s only if you open up
Loosen up then giddyup, vroom-vroom up in them guts

[Verse 1]
You sell out, then you fake, you stay broke, then you real
I be true to myself all day, fuck your feels (Nah, for real)
Different cities, different girls, different drugs, different feels
Out in Europe, foreigns normal, same me, different wheels
They be staring while I’m steering, my apparel her appeal
Tires screech, whip on fleek, in my way, then get ’em killed
She on me, she on me, you inside, I’m in the field
Hate on me, hate on me, you just need some time to heal
Bands, bags, and bitches, ooh, they just like my attitude
Hit a cow if it don’t moo, swag and swoolin’ to the loot
Ain’t my brother, then he fool, don’t be tryin’ me like a fool
Counting bread while getting head, nigga independent too

[Chorus]
’93 Chevy, red Chevelle, damn, nigga, what? (On go)
Turbo thrusters, main straight down the hill, feeling fuck
Playing chicken, doing burnouts, hitting donuts, pulling up
Sixteen, grand theft auto, chopshop for some bucks
She a lady, treat her like it, then get broken by a slut (Bitch)
People push your buttons but it’s only if you open up
Loosen up then giddyup, vroom-vroom up in them guts
Vroom-vroom up in them guts, vroom-vroom up in them guts

[Verse 2]
Centerpieces, Mona Lisas
Bratty bitches, queens and divas
Coke up in my ho, full metal jacket
Dick up in my ho (Yeah), drugs got me savage (Yeah)
Lying to my bitch (Yeah), truth make a rabbit (Shit, fuck)
Rabbit (Nah, for real), rabbit, rabbit (Nah, for real)
Lying to my bitch (Yeah), truth make a rabbit (Nah, for real)
Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit (Nah, for real)
Lying to my bitch (Yeah), truth make a rabbit (Nah, for real)

[Outro]
’93 Chevy, red Chevelle, damn, nigga, what?
Playing chicken, doing burnouts, hitting donuts, pulling up
She a lady, treat her like it, then get broken by a slut