Song Title:Drive
Singer/Band: El-p
Album:
Lyrics,here we go....
C'mon, ma, can I adopt the keys?
My contemporaries is carpooling with sentence and disease
Buckle up, skipper
The new american Asterix
You're riding shotty with Jesus of Nascar-eth
At the end of the day, we all sittin' on 24s
365 horses, no horseshit
with aught but a learner's permit
Delinquents on the autobahn poppin' our airbags off the worthless
I'm not depressed, man
I'm only a fucking New Yorker
Who knows that sittin' in dealings with these bastards is torture
I'll be in a heap with a mami getting head rest
And roar at the glowing moon roof as validation that I'm not dead yet
And y'all can all leave me the hummer
'Cause in the meantime, I'ma pimp this ride like fly formula one-er
This is the El-Product summer
With a glint of factory gun metal sheen grey and no vin number
[Chorus]
Drive, Drive, Drive
Hopped in the hooptie screaming "freedom is mine!"
Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive
Bumpin' the line I so conveniently provide
Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive
Don't get to be flashy, I'll use any old ride
Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive
Hop in the worst and strip away, stay alive
Cars slide by with the bomming system
Like New York is Fallujah with metal gear using christians
Posted up for the gods of oil mining
In a military humvee with no bullet proof siding (sorry, guys)
Brooklyn, baby
I'm waterlocked walkin' nervous
When the curfew was imposed closing transportational service
This gonzomatic fear turns me Hunter S. Thompson
With my lawyer leaning over the side view mirror vomiting
You call 'em windows, I bid 'em asbestos lesseners
For this wheezing in my chest I'll take more than fucking air fresheners
There ain't no easy pass
Hands on the dash
You'll get rocked in casba if the movement's too fast
Here follow the cannon balls, run
Get in your gremlin
The years of thunder's creepin' up earlier than you expected
Paranoid brethren disable their onstar knowing they'll follow us
Pull us over and yell "get out le car!"
[Chorus]
These thugs got the centre of Herbie the Luv Bug
It don't have a speed racing head to see that they're just stuck
I'll wrap your promo truck with a nambla stencil to show that you're fucking babies
Frontin' up in a rental
I knew a kid who navigated it slippery
And fuel injected a speed ball on hs way to Atlantic City
Out the speed before even making his mark
And now he'll never pick his shit up out of long term parking
My triple A bill has one too many initials
And autobot on the periphery of liquid addiction spinning fish-tails
About to reel on some toonces shit off the cliff
But know of the play of racing is holding me out of coffins
Camu was like "Fuck it, just hold the beats dirty dusty"
I grabbed the CD radio like "10/4 good buddy"
I'll keep working the track
Even when muddy
'Cause my insurance don't cover leaving the pit crew that know me
So I drive
[Chorus]
BeeMp3
Bomb-Mp3
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