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brookfield duece - driving lyrics

verse 1:
(mibbs)
shout out to my dogs and my locs’
stay cool when the police approach us
cause you might be rolling with toasters
you don’t want no sh-t
you don’t wanna see those lights
them n-ggas gon read your rights
them n-ggas gon beat your -ss
no matter you wrong or right
and i was just riding shotgun
and the coppers said “oh we got one!”
and my rental car smell like high times
and my n-gga don’t stop at the stop sign
and my cell phone boom it’s a hotline
and the homie got braids with the hangtime
and the n-gga take pics with the gang signs
real n-ggas stay real don’t change sides
pull a n-gga over on the curb
cause a n-gga smell like h-lla herb
got a n-gga back up on the wall
got a n-gga face up in the dirt
treat me like a m-th-f-ckin jerk
now i got stains on my shirt
hope them n-ggas get what they deserve
get what they deserve

verse 2:
(nick grant)
ugh! bank account bank account ugh
f-ck what n-ggas thinking bout
can’t f-ck with these square n-ggas
see when we get it you ain’t around (yea)
dead nights see the walking corpse no thriller night but i’m off the wall
every bar is like boston george
ted talk with no marky mark
n-gga bankroll bankroll
i go where you can’t go
where i’m from they love the white
mama said stay away from paying tolls
black sh-t savageness
this is more than just some rapper sh-t
n-ggas got ladder clips
for n-ggas that climb the ladder
if you make it to 21, miraculous
hold up hold up swerve
i gave n-ggas my word
no turning back i got it out the dirt
the ones that you love can bring the most hurt
she say this the wave she like she might surf
and i’m just like “word?” and no i’m no perfect when you this gifted n-gga this sh-t is like a slight curse this sh-t was light work (let’s get it)

verse 3:
(duece)
can’t have a masterpiece until you master peace
it’s a big pie im trying to have a piece
them boys coming imma hide the piece
won’t let me buy freedom imma master lease
imma dog out here i’m off master leash
i’ll stop tripping when the k!lling cease
how many cornbreads dead in the street?
enough to keep me ready when the sirens bleep!
they want me in the kennel playing with my mental i ain’t saying sh-t just call me instrumental
my lawyer looking like jay leno
we on civil suits you gon get the memo
it’s layers to it onion leek and fennel
get the settlement and go flip a rental
presidential suite f-ck the incidentals
f-ck the government that ain’t what we into
leave the court room take my tie off
throw it down
bang my set hope a cop see a n-gga hold it down
get a bag of donuts make them b-tches rain on the ground
payback gon be a hot drink to have to wash it down
i know you want me bound
really want me down
a n-gga lost and found
i don lost the ground
sky high
with the hate around
i put my trust in the courts
and got the vapors now
gave me cases gave a n-ggas years
feel like a hand me down
i want that sh-t
been giving p-sses but keep playing
yea keep playing
a n-gga with that sh-t
and next time you pull me over

outro:
(cymone bettis)
n-gga you ain’t about to do sh-t!
the cops gon pull you over
they gon rob you, they gon run you to jail
and you ain’t gon say or do sh-t
because they gon k!ll your ignorant -ss

- brookfield duece lyrics

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