Tekst piosenki
I hate driving at night Just increase the chance Quality of Life gon’ flash them misery lights Stay home/write that Richard Price But when the script don’t flip/right back at it like a neighbor on the pipe Pick up/drop off/pick up/drop off It’s just a job but you can’t never knock off Gettin’ old, goin soft or just seeing things for what they are I’ma die up in this car/hunched over the wheel with a big roll of small bills Tray fulla ash/quarter tank of gas/dog eared photos tapes to the dash 18 years pushing this cab/from bush dimes to kush in the bag Youthful crime to this is all I really have Flash high beams on the boulevard of broken dreams/oh, you don’t know it? Last exit off the road to riches and diamond rings [Hook] Write the rhymes they wanna hear, right Here, right? They told me: Woods, you need a new free project every month and a half and moving forward The publicist only accepts cash Something to think bout while I drive like when your connect retire Introduce you to the new guy and he’s twenty-five/hmmmmmmmmm The meter runs/release reefer in lungs/now we’re cooking with gas Good times? I ain't have fun seems like errybody else had a blast Your last tape was half-assed Few weeks pass ya mans already got the microwave on rehash That’s what’s hot on the local thoroughfares, huh? Fuck it, ill take you there Red light/the beast just stare/watching you try to play it cool Everybody plays the fool/sometimes/hit the corner like we playing pool Sink the nine Moving goalposts them folks change rules/no reason or rhyme I compete with great vigor within the lines that are painted, nigga Now I’m out here graveyardin’/narrow margins/pathetic pantomime Grey Gardens [Hook]
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