conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Chevy Ridin High (Remix) with the following description: The remix to the original Chevy Ridin High. This is a continued ode to one of the American car greats. From the West to the South here is how the Chevy will look like depending on your coastal location.
  
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [DJ Khaled]
  Give it to DJ Khaled for doing it [?], big dog, Pitbull, Terror Squadian AKA the Beat Novacane!
  REMIX! REMIX! REMIX! Listennn!
  Dre! (This Is, This Is)
  Pusha! (This Is, This Is, This Is)
  The Game! (This Is, This Is, This Is)
  Fat Joe! (This Is, This Is, This Is)
  Rick Ross!
  Listennn!
  [Verse 1: Pusha]
  If he claims king and he claim best, then I guess you can call me God
  ,
  There's none higher, none flyer
  The kingpin is back, Louis Vuitton frames hide the face of the supplier
  Peek-a-boo take a look at what these kilos do
  Air-condition the Jacob watch is Freon blue
  A hundred thousand it should come with some mileage too
  Give me the option to get it serviced at Jiffy Lube
  3 years gone, feds tapping the phone
  Rappers downloading my style, I'm feeling like a ringtone
  Yuck, the hiatus tried to mini-me me
  Triple beams to BAPE jeans they'll never be me
  Re-up gang known as the kilo shoppers
  Ridin’ Chevys give us room to reload choppers
  Gourmet beef serving niggas Fillet Oscar
  So many bitches screaming we should promote operas [Verse 2: The Game]
  Chevy ridin’ high boy, look at the hot wheels
  If you hotheaded, we gonna pop steel
  And when I pop the trunk you see a lotta pumps
  I'll make the ass bounce like a bitch in some Prada pumps
  I drive 6 tre’s, 6 Fo's, the wheels 6 Fo's, watch that ass get low
  And I'm the rapping assassin, ask Rick Ross
  Ganstas don’t dance we make the car do the Laffy Taffy
  I ain’t Yung Joc, but I got a motor bike
  And I gotta ho I like she like to do the motor bike
  I'm from Murdaville, and I rep the Dodgers
  Throwing white bars out that 6 Fo Impala
  [Verse 3: Dre]
  No it's not the doctor, but it's still D.R.E
  Trying to move them units like the Chronic did in '93
  On that 95 doing 95
  , let four of them things go for like 95
  Black Dickie set, black Chevrolet Impala
  Trunk full of that black market pack product
  Game hit me told me black wall street pop ya colla’
  Pusha T, I got your back nigga I'm a holla
  They trying to JFK ya boy, No!
  The media and paper's trying to blame ya boy, No!
  But the only thing getting' dropped because of me is the roof on the 7 tre Chevy Caprice
  [Chorus:]
  Chevy ridin’ high boy, Chevy ridin’ high boy, Chevy ridin’ high
  Bumpin the gangsta music
  Chevy, Chevy ridin’ high boy, Chevy ridin’ high boy, Chevy ridin’ high
  Bumpin the gangsta music [Verse 4: Fat Joe]
  Throw your money in the air niggas, put ya sets up
  If you ready to ride and down to wet something
  Its coca baby, say it with conviction
  The A's hate me, I got no convictions
  They won’t leave me 'til they greet me with life
  Catching up with old friends is like speaking to the mic
  And I ain’t mister innocent, but something ain’t right
  When it's five dark skinned in the line-up and I'm light
  My life's a movie, ya love to hate me
  GT bars, double exhaust baby
  It's all bubbles when you sitting on mills
  Then you fuck the game up with them Puerto Rico grills
  [Verse 5: Rick Ross]
  My gun shot whips squat
  Ridin’ on them air shocks
  Ice cream got the car painted like a blow pop, Ross
  No top, just guts in the glass house
  Ten blocks, no cut in my last house
  Pull the pots watch out I'm a chef
  It's Ricky Ross, I'm the boss and the fucking best
  I'ma burn rubba (rubba)
  I'ma burn cheese (cheese)
  I'ma burn yeese, boy I'm trying to earn these [Verse 6: Dirt Bag]
  I'm on that reefer and liquor
  When on the block gotta pitcher
  The public see me in my Chevy got a star, they want pictures
  We ridin [?] and vogues
  30's and lows
  Now its 26 bitch's throwing up doors
  [?] call me styles and Latino's call me sucio
  Chevy ridin’ high like you seen a U.F.O
  Haters be creeping cuz all that work I be leaping
  Now and laters be leaking, elevators can’t reach 'em, baby
  [Chorus]