nigga cash stole his copilot Who used to drive like sacks of blow on this remote Area, we label dead man's island Two hundred miles south from thailand
? And who would clean the sewers? Who'd mend my television? Wouldn't people lay about without some supervision? Who'd drive the fire engines? Who'd fix
down, turn off your microphone Cause after me its un-rippable I slap you in your mouth, your drinks'll be unsippable I got miles of styles, you must be
Verse Two Some things make you happy just to be alive Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five
album is weak your whole shit sound like karaoke Conversation, loss of limbs amputation Head meaning decapitation rough like Craig Mack derm abrasion Evil tendency, strong like Miles
how the days escape leaving nothing in their wake. Except the taste of regretting yesterday. I thought about the tears your cried and the miles that you drive
salt piston pump drain But hold those incredible console with the Russian roulette baboon spin-off Where everyday a thousand strangers pray for empty chambers One-sixth buckle Five
never see them And I've got this black suit on Roaming around like I'm ready for a funeral Five more miles till the road runs out I'm about to drive
this country from L.A to Maine Seattle and back to Key West Through hundreds of gigs and all the miles they did They say that raising five kids tops the
trail The silence was never broken as the words poured from his lips Quiet as the forty five he carried on his hip, he said ... Cowboy: I rode the cattle drive
you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud. I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes
before the sun is up I'm out the door and on my way I Catch the two and then the thirty-five And by six-fifteen I'm on the train Thrity miles till the
the studio tymin It cant wait for the hate n' feedback I stat when I break down the weed on my rap [Andre Nickatina] I was born about eight miles from
, Let's hit the road We can't wait any longer, Let's go She's looking out the window And her baby starting to show From five months ago So keep driving, keep driving
were stood inside and that made thirty-five 'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids I got to go for a Sunday drive An orphanage full of thirty-five
stood inside and that made thirty-five. 'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. An orphanage full of thirty-five
You jumped in front of my car When you, you don't wanna jive. Ninty miles an hour, girl, is the Speed I drive. You tell me it's alright, You don't mind
Well, it's a twenty-five mile drive from here to town There's gray skies and there's no doubt Rain's comin' down this morning I get off the interstate