ute DNA, track attitude. Bed delete with a tubed rear and fuel cell on display, caged up and ready to scrape. Overfenders swallow deep-dish rollers, a street-scraper lip skims the concrete, and the steering’s set for big-angle entries. Hydro yanks, long transitions, tidy wall rides—this one lives at full lock. Pull up to the docks, clutch-kick, and draw smoke rings across Los Santos.