Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Drivin Round, artist - Wu-Block
Date of issue: 26.11.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Drivin Round |
Out the window with that Range or that muscle car |
Arm hanging out the window |
diamonds in that big Chopard |
Weed in the cracked cigar, more sour in the jar |
Looking both ways, I’m cautious when I’m (drivin' 'round) |
Hoodrats that’s fresh, but barely feed their kids |
Little kids that’s killers and love doing bids |
Unemployment lines, Mexicans’ll work for nothing |
You pray with them, but you don’t know who that priest been touching |
Liquour stores, strip clubs, filthy whores |
Somebody daughter getting ten singles to drop her drawers |
Crack fiends buy a new TV for 20 beans |
Niggas tryna get money, police (drivin' 'round) |
Blue flags, red flags, different gangs |
OG’s still outside, it never changes |
McDonald’s, chinese food, a thousand chains |
I’m just tryna use my brains when I’m (drivin' 'round) |
Step in the car and go |
Round down by your lady, and I be waiting at the door |
We 'bout to go (drivin' 'round) |
Look, I’m fresh back from out of state, |
JFK arrival |
A big spliff in my ashtray |
July sunny day |
And I’m feeling 'ight too, sliding through |
Medina |
I done pushed everything, I love the way the Benz swing |
So I turn my music up |
caught a thought, wrote it down |
I’ve seen him come back from outta town and get laid down |
His music loud, windows down, summer heat vibing |
It’s live when I’m gliding, I’m smoking while I’m driving |
Riding, mini skirts flirting while I’m passing, they waving |
I’m leaning hard cruising, grooving to the beat |
As I move through these mean streets |
I beep at the seeds, stop, bless them with a little gwap |
I keep it rolling, picture me trolling the big truck |
(?), my cheap skin shearing all the leather |
It’s a cold world, winter war weather |
This is Wu-Block music for the black hooded champions |
What is the key to life, with no ignition? |
Another jump start, then I’m on my mission |
I keep ID, insurance, and registration |
Wu music, good hemp for stimulation |
Pull out the station, yield to pedestrians |
Blacks, whites, Asians, Indians and Mexicans |
At the light, a base head, fragile as a Pringle |
He asks me «can I spare a change?"I throw up singles |
He mimics my song that’s on repeat |
Addiction so strong, got him in knee deep |
Button on his lapel, picture of Obama |
Four years later we stuck in the same drama |
These streets corners, just overcrowded saunas |
Bigger losers drop weight, sweating from the trauma |
Education to a thug is well debated |
Each crime is kinfolk, all blood related |