Lyrics:
scratched but I don't got nails
Got my own truck but I want to drive trails
Plus I won a house in ATL and that depends on my sales
And I'm tryin' to get
make that mistake again
Twice
Oh the one that gets away, is the one that almost stayed
The one that throws that truck in drive, is the one you once
Betcha look good by the ocean
In a beach chair, margarita in your hand
Betcha look good in the sunshine
With some tan lines, toes in the sand
We stick to the straight roads up the West Coast
And I feel a part of me slide
When the trucks drive by
I feel 'em sway us side to side
You're
On the back road
The wind chill blew the snow like Satchmo
I asked "How was your Christmas?"
He said "it sucked"
I asked "Why?", he said, "Man
My sister's
count a mil' by hand, I'm exhausted
Since we against all odds, bro, you can keep all yours
Shit, we gon' split all mines, forever throw my fours
We
and no place to grow
Now your pops a prop we just sit and watch
But the curtains never close
Just blow around in concrete towns
Why ya drive that truck
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
guns on your head just like I gave you a noogie (grr)
I know drug dealers that was rich and now they turned to a druggie (damn)
But all in all, no
on top
'Lo wears, and Tommy Hil' fly shit with a knot
The witty unpredictable live shit, drive by shit
Do-or-die shit, I'll take your lie and shit
shorty know I'm a hell of a nigga
When I get done then it's back to the block you know me I link up wit my niggas
Bed of the truck when we do a drive by we
I could drive you home
Walk you to the door
You could ask me up
And I'm pretty sure
That your whiskey breath
Would land on my tongue
Yeah, I know we
Small town, ain't really much to do
My bitch say "get your ass up
Out the fuckin' livin' room"
Ride down Main Street, drive slow, bass loud
My bitch
ever broke up
I still drive down Main, ain't a damn thing changed
'Cept you ain't here in this truck
I keep holding out hoping for someday
Like it's
in the wraith (Wraith)
The seats is heated, they giving massage
(Aye) i thought you was hard
Do a drive-by in the hellcat charger
Take 'em to the,
are my Denali trucks
Knownin' that I'm surrounded by OG's
That I don't really get down with
They got a separate table for their freaks bought them
hinges off of fuckin' doors
I'm flipping motherfuckin' cars, trucks, ambulances
This is my motherfuckin' block, lay it down
I got a bullet with your
don't stop rappin
TSI got too much money bitch I can't stop rappin
8BWe some presidential players, with money by the layers
8BAin't nuthin you broke
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
I got it
Your mom is so fat (How fat is she?)
Your mama is so big and fat that she can get busy
With twenty-two burritos, but times are rough
I
I got it
Your mom is so fat (How fat is she?)
Your mama is so big and fat that she can get busy
With twenty-two burritos, but times are rough
I
in my old truck
So I could take us to the drive-in show
Graduation finally came, Uncle Sam called me away
You married someone else while I was
say" shit
Unless he say she said she on my dick
It's no coincidence, niggas who fuck wit' me get shot up (brrat, brrat)
I do a Cali' style drive-by
alone, the ass had us both in the zone
But you know the rules, both been schooled by older dudes
I know the jewels, no time for them thoughts, too much
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