But every song's like gold teeth, Grey Goose, trippin' in the bathroom
Blood stains, ball gowns, trashin' the hotel room,
We don't care, we're driving Cadillacs in our dreams.
But everybody's like Crystal, Maybach, diamonds on your time piece.
Jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash.
We don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair.
So don't be tempted to bring your ATS-like delicacy to the Escalade line, because it's not going to work.
Keep the Escalade the mustard and mayonnaise Vogue tire beast that it should be. The world loves proper Cadillacs, and the Escalade is the last one left.
The Escalade Is The Last Real Cadillac, So Don't Screw It Up