Stroker and Hoop2004

Stroker:
C.A.R.R., take me to a used car lot, please.

C.A.R.R.:
May I ask why?

Stroker:
I'm going undercover. I need some hip hop wheels.

C.A.R.R.:
What do you mean? I'm crook. Slap some spinners and a whistle tip on me and I'm good to go. Woo-woo!

Stroker:
Sorry, buddy, got to trade you in.

C.A.R.R.:
But my seat contours to your ass perfectly. That takes years of working together.

Stroker:
Just don't let on that you're a self-driving talking car. When the moment's right, you can just drive away.

C.A.R.R.:
Well, what if I get bought by mexicans? They can pile in 10 to a car like me, not to mention those big bags of oranges.

Hoop:
C.A.R.R., no racist crap, ok?