My car is a ****.

She lets homeless people get in her
She gets oil changes from anybody
And doesn't care what gas she fills up on.
Whether like cheap beer or fine wine,
No matter, she'll need more in short time

I don't know why I get mad when I'm not the driver
But my car will let four, sometimes five men get inside of her
She's been stopped by more cops at curbs than Zimmerman
And turned more tricks at corners than Paris Hilton

She is fun, sleek, and knows where to go,
Knows when to stop and start when I say no.
Only problem is, that each time I want to know
Where she's been, silent instead, with a low hum and that hubcap grin.

My car is a ****.