Driver's Seat Lyrics - Capone-n-noreaga

(Killer be , 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 want to 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 why'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!)