Drivers Seat (feat. Imam Thug & Busta Rhymes)

Kill B

Yeah

Rest in peace, I'm sayin', son

Ain't no room in this game for everybody, you know?

But uh, we don' do our thing, baby, we gon' do our thing

Yo, Imam Thug, something stunnin', rappers get done in

I migrate, Queens, Jamaica, Brooklyn be sunnin'

All feelings though, we all grow with this bubble

I recognized life is a deal, cards and a shuffle

Everything revolves around me, I couldn't see that

Twenty-five to life and Hip-Hop, you got the feed back

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 **** feelin' wide inside

Any bottle-tip, high smokin' lah in the rye

It's on you, if you wanna take heed the hidden treasure

Let's recognize it's Imam Thug with Noreaga

Recognize that two-five shine'll last forever

Embedded in your mind like the seams in better leathers

Butter leathers, check it, yo, yo, yo

I keep it real with a **** keep it real with me

I cut the hand off a **** tryna steal from me

Two-five I be the bomb-diggy-bomb you see

Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat

I keep it real with a **** keep it real with me

I cut the hand off a **** tryna steal from me

Two-five be the bomb-diggy-bomb you see

Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat

I keep it real with a bitch that keep it real with me

Cut the hand off a chicken tryna steal from me

CNN be that bomb-diggy-bomb you see

Now, it's Norea, now, in the driver's seat

Yo, I shoot rapid, burn weed inside a back quick

Iraq embassy need a straightjacket

Yo, let's racketeer this, while most ****'ll fear this

Turn my shit down every time they hear it

Ph.D. me, rapidly right in the back of me

Tackle me, them **** make loot but only half of me

My faculty, blow holes in your Moschinos and tuxedoes

While all y'all **** free-load, reload

Explode on, roll on, fold on, Ghengis Khan

Duck 'till dawn, Art of War

Still time to score, yo, 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 daishiki, diamond cut pinky

Listen to Trag shit with Noyd and Chinky

Network like the internet, with 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 with a bitch that keep it real with me

Cut the hand off a chicken tryna 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 with one E-Class

Shorty came through, she iced out and dressed in blue

Said she move from Brooklyn, reside in section 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 the 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 with, give my life to

Be the first to turn around and try to spike you

Now, they don't like you, sendin' ten dogs to bite you

I keep it real with a **** keep it real with me

I cut the hand off a **** tryna steal from me

Two-five I be the bomb-diggy-bomb you see

Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat

I keep it real with a **** keep it real with me

I cut the hand off a **** tryna steal from me

Two-five I be the bomb-diggy-bomb you see

Black juice in the Yu