Your Four Tires

You have made me so very fierce, So your car tires, I now will pierce; To find you car then, yes I must Tire by tire, my knife to thrust; With an ice pick, should I swing, From your tires, be some air leaking; They may even give a 'hissssss', All four tires, I will not miss; Loudly can the tire blast, Loss of air will be so fast; A loud 'pop' might be the sound, Quick, your rims will hit the ground; And each tire I give a blow, Will make the sound of air letting go; May even give 'em a second slice, Cause you'll be paying the replacement price; Them four tires, I can so easily stick, And you won't catch me, I'll do it quick; It's your four tires that I plan to poke, And I want you to know this is no joke.