Drivin Round - Wu-Block, GZA, Erykah Badu

Out the window with that Range or that muscle car

Arm hanging out the window

diamonds in that big Chopard

Weed in the cracked cigar, more sour in the jar

Looking both ways, I’m cautious when I’m (drivin' 'round)

Hoodrats that’s fresh, but barely feed their kids

Little kids that’s killers and love doing bids

Unemployment lines, Mexicans’ll work for nothing

You pray with them, but you don’t know who that priest been touching

Liquour stores, strip clubs, filthy whores

Somebody daughter getting ten singles to drop her drawers

Crack fiends buy a new TV for 20 beans

Niggas tryna get money, police (drivin' 'round)

Blue flags, red flags, different gangs

OG’s still outside, it never changes

McDonald’s, chinese food, a thousand chains

I’m just tryna use my brains when I’m (drivin' 'round)

Step in the car and go

Round down by your lady, and I be waiting at the door

We 'bout to go (drivin' 'round)

Look, I’m fresh back from out of state,

JFK arrival

A big spliff in my ashtray

July sunny day

And I’m feeling 'ight too, sliding through

Medina

I done pushed everything, I love the way the Benz swing

So I turn my music up

caught a thought, wrote it down

I’ve seen him come back from outta town and get laid down

His music loud, windows down, summer heat vibing

It’s live when I’m gliding, I’m smoking while I’m driving

Riding, mini skirts flirting while I’m passing, they waving

I’m leaning hard cruising, grooving to the beat

As I move through these mean streets

I beep at the seeds, stop, bless them with a little gwap

I keep it rolling, picture me trolling the big truck

(?), my cheap skin shearing all the leather

It’s a cold world, winter war weather

This is Wu-Block music for the black hooded champions

What is the key to life, with no ignition?

Another jump start, then I’m on my mission

I keep ID, insurance, and registration

Wu music, good hemp for stimulation

Pull out the station, yield to pedestrians

Blacks, whites, Asians, Indians and Mexicans

At the light, a base head, fragile as a Pringle

He asks me «can I spare a change?"I throw up singles

He mimics my song that’s on repeat

Addiction so strong, got him in knee deep

Button on his lapel, picture of Obama

Four years later we stuck in the same drama

These streets corners, just overcrowded saunas

Bigger losers drop weight, sweating from the trauma

Education to a thug is well debated

Each crime is kinfolk, all blood related