She came over about 5 past 7, She was tall around 5?11, And I was high as a kite by then, She promised me everything, And she promised thick and thin
on that thang man I know you niggaz out there just don't understand Verse Four: Juvenile I'm a 1999 driver I'm a uptown third ward magnolia T.C. driver
out won't change baby I'll do your main lady, in a blue navigaty That's game baby, you can call me a game shooter But since I drive a bubble people call
: [Obie Trice] We run this shit, fo-five on the hip Been ridin' for Shady.... [ Cashis ] Cashis 'n' O, Shady Records The dream team... [ Verse 1 ] [
a seven mile drive through in mcdonalds and pile drive you i've got the power to snap the driver out of his zeddy bower while he drives by it ninety miles
high, stay fly For the city Live good, Stay right For the city I'm from the city of angels Everybody gotta' drive, So the streets is dangerous For the city Drive
: [Obie Trice:] We run this shit, fo-five on the hip Been ridin' for Shady.... [Cashis:] Cashis 'n' O, Shady Records The dream team... [Verse 1: Cashis
school But her father changed jobs And we cried together As her plane was flying away Well the phone never was enough For us to hold on to Now every mile that I drive
him drive a half a mile pull over and let me out Shake the spot and take the under routes park up in the cuts Now this motherfucker starts driving in
drive her loca We never ride far, packed five in a car Save money for the drinks, I'm about to buy the bar (yeah) And everywhere I drive I'm a star,
drive, baby can't drive Yeah, yeah Baby can't drive Baby can't drive Yeah, yeah, yeah Baby can't drive, baby can't drive I'm a million miles away,
, count to five And I will start my car for a ride Yeah, a hundred miles And I will be at speed satisfied Yeah, I'll miss my life Behind my driving wheel
A hundred cups of coffee, five hundred cigarettes A thousand miles of highway and I ain't forgot her yet But I keep on moving, I keep moving down the
to know" Clap for the Wolfman, he gon' rate your record high Clap for the Wolfman, you gon' dig him till the day you die Seventy-five or eighty miles
little lost along the way I'm just around the corner to the light of day Well, I'm just around the corner to the light of day Been driving five hundred miles, got five
Jigalo Getcha hoe, lick her low, make the bitch, hit the do' I represent honies with money fly guys with gems Drive with the tints that be thirty-five
