Driver's seat

Capone & Noreaga

Composed by: Victor Santiago
featuring Busta Rhymes Iman T.H.U.G. 

(Killer B 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 wanna 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 y'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!)
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