Drivers Seat Lyrics by Capone -n- Noreaga

Drivers Seat Lyrics

    (killer b, yeah, rest in peace, i'm sayin son
    Ain't no room in this game for everybody, you know?
    But uh, we gon' do our thing baby, we gon' do our thing)

    [iman t.h.u.g.]
    Yo, iman t.h.u.g. something stunnin, rappers get done in
    I migrate, queens jamaica, brooklyn gets sunning
    All feelings though, we all grow wit this ?buckle?
    I recognized life is a deal, cards and a shuffle
    Everything revolves around me, i couldn't see that
    25 to life and hip-hop, you got the feedback
    Who need that, hundred gram stashed up in the cheese stack
    We fo' black, want more trip, we get that old back
    And keep this world high, yearly raw supply
    These fuckin tracks have a nigga feelin wide inside
    Any bottle-tip high smokin lah in the rye
    It's on you, if you wanna take heed the hidden treasure
    Recognize it's iman t.h.u.g. wit noreaga
    Recognize that 2-5 shine'll last forever
    Embedded in your mind like the seams in butter leathers
    Butter leathers, check it yo yo yo

    Chorus 2x
    I keep it real wit a nigga keep it real wit me
    I cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me
    2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see
    Black juice in the yukon driver's seat

    [noreaga]
    I keep it real wit a bitch that keep it real wit me
    Cut the hand off a chicken tryin steal from me
    Cnn be that bomb-diggy bomb you see
    Now it's nore now in the fuckin driver's seat
    Yo i shot rapid, burn weed inside a back quick
    Iraq embassy need a straitjacket
    Yo let's rachateer this, while most niggas'll fear this
    Turn my shit down everytime they hear it
    P-h-d me, rapidly right in back of me
    Tackle me, them niggas make loot but only half of me
    My faculty, blow holes in your moschinos and tuxedos
    While all y'all niggas free-load, reload
    Explode on, roll on, fold on, ghengis khan
    Dusk till dawn art of war
    Still time to score, yo we kid we poly for
    Yo victoria's secret bitches that suck dick raw
    The freak, rick james type, i got the long pipe
    Kick doors in, snake four-fours in
    Yo escape the nor-van, swervin, tv's inside suburban
    Iraq dishieke, diamond cut pinky
    Listen to trag shit wit noyd and chinky
    Network like the internet, wit henny wet
    Nine-oh be my set, so whatever be next
    Nashiem, he laced this beat on some east coast shit

    I keep it real wit a bitch that keep it real wit me
    Cut the hand off a chicken tryin steal from me
    Cnn be that bomb-diggy bomb you see
    Now it's nore now in the fuckin driver's seat

    We overdose this, high class wit one e-class
    Shorty came through, she iced out and dressed in blue
    Said she move from brooklyn, reside in secion two
    Know how we do out here hoe, a two for square
    Get high, and disappear play the projects on super-low
    Plus she feelin my style, too hot like coolio
    Plus her cooty though, bangin just like the studio
    >from iraq to inglewood, it all good
    >from hood to hood, regulate like a thug should
    Yo we in too deep, losin sleep and can't call it
    The game is still fresh until the jake try to spoil it
    Even people i was loyal wit, give my life to
    Be the first who turn around and try to spike
    Now they don't like you, sendin ten dogs to bite you

    [iman t.h.u.g.] (busta rhymes)
    I keep it real wit a nigga (yo yo) keep it real wit me
    (we keep it real nigga) i cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me
    (cut ya hand off!! fuck) 2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see
    (what!) black juice in the yukon driver's seat (what)
    (we keeps it real wit niggas who keep it real wit us)
    I keep it real wit a nigga keep it real wit me
    (fuck, cut ya hand off) i cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me
    2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see (what!)
    Black juice in the yukon driver's seat (what!)

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