Lyrics:
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)
Now Arnold Jones an' MaryBeth Jensen's in a 'Vette down by the Deep Rock
Had John Denver on the 8-track
comin'
you can't stop me
you can't stop me
I'm comin'
I'm comin'
Batton down the hatches and latch the doors
you wanna to try to match my wits with yours?
true business men
Talkin about it, by the way
B, what we doin' this week on SoundScan?
If I ain't in Japan, I'm in the Valley (Valley)
Or maybe next
Hoppin' out the van, I'm on Abbey Road
Fans with cameras in the bathroom, man, that's difficult
I just wanna smoke a Backwoods by my lonely self
Chill,
my head spin
Shaking like a violin
Once I make it past the tracks
I'm ready for no looking back
Almost there
Sky is black
Paper Planes and window
Sin City
There's no turning back
Once Macka's on the track
I'm like Jack Frost
With a heatwave of new shit
(One, two, three, four...)
So back off as I
ayy)
You don't know the feelin' when you ridin' on that road
With them oowops in the door panel, just tryna make it home (wow)
Then you touch down
the front door
We better go through the back
See, that was back then, now look where we at
Straight to VIP, my niggaz, man we deep
You gonna go by 2 or 3
Riding down the back roads, got my heart on spin
Kicking up the dust like the wildest wind
Got my cowboy boots, I'm living free and loud
A little Nas
in the Buick
Three up front, three in the back
I'm trying to get my dreaming back on track
Trying to get my credit back to black
Once credit was
you’re a bitch on a broom, gonna let it fly
Verse 3:
You’re a poisoned apple, acid down to your core
Watch you drop, there we go, another closed door
I
in the Buick
Three up front, three in the back
I'm trying to get my dreaming back on track
Trying to get my credit back to black
Once credit was
like I'm Toad
Hop in the forth, that four-forty-four close
It's on, soon as you see 'em, let go
Reloaded it and dump it some more
So we posted up by
sawed off
I'll knock on ya door and shoot ya motherfuckin' head off
See murder a real fuckin' natural born killah for realah my nigga
I'm badder
And beat us down in the fucking parking lot! (fuck you!)
Toljest, jump steady, and nate the mack,
Tagged icp by the train tracks!
And it was on, the dawn
You know sex 'em up a little bit
You know what I mean?
You're the honey that I see when I'm riding by
The one giving me a feeling that I can't deny
paranoia so if they come
Then I dump, dump, dump
That really all I got for ya, this life is crazy
I might go Krayzie if I'm down, don't let them break me
So
I'm gone
"He high," yep, I'm three-high
I'm just schoolin' these fucks like DeVry
College institution, finals and confusion
Stop with your excuses,
I'm saying, the vet, not the pet
Dig this here man
Like my nigga Cashball, you know what I'm saying, me and DeAnte say
Man, it's "stacks, tracks
body on my arm like I'm Lil Peep
Cut the doors of the G Waggon like an OG
Fuck a fake nigga, I can die by myself
(still) i only drive in sport cause'
leaves its mark
No place left to hide
Losing track of time
[Chorus]
In the shadows where I run
Chased under the pale moon
Fear grips and I'm undone
Cold
and my brother with the bubble bust
I'm on the roof, I'm screaming, I got the juice
One brick, two brick, three brick, four
Now DEA, boy, they
the mound and they're bound
Marry 'em all together is how we breaking the sound barrier
I'm three-dimensional, we invincible
You saying I'm over, you never
to Organized, 'cause they raised me
I'm also down with LaFace 'cause L.A. Reid, yeah, he pays me
And it's cool
Yeah, it's real cool, getting paid fat pockets
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