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Capone-N-Noreaga F/ Busta Rhymes, Iman T.H.U.G. Miscellaneous Driver's Seat (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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