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the a-team - slower traffic to the right lyrics

[intro]
my ’99 n-ggas. my ’99 n-ggas. my ’99 n-ggas

[verse one: abstract rude]
slower traffic to the right
fast lane, merge left, let’s roll, take flight
keep mashing, only bring unique fashions
f-ck eating rations and not cashing checks
i’m having reps for breakfast and taking t-tles for lunch
i’ma set it till i’ve deaded you punks
torpedo in your sub and your battleship sunk
more people in the club saying “ah, sh-t bumps!”
yeah
jeeps
walkmans
boomboxes
yeah and all that sh-t you talking is obnoxious
where’s my remote then i press “mute”
something in you robots does not compute
rewiring, replace your parts
and be br-ss knuckles solid steel with purple hearts
so when circle starts
and dogs bark, me and el park
turtle are big snails, hares quick dart
which will cross the line winning?
with time running?
rapid traffic and mind bending
watch out for oncoming

[hook: abstract rude]
slower traffic to the right
fast lane, merge left, let’s roll, take flight
(get served)
slower traffic to the right
fast lane, merge left, let’s roll, take flight
(ya heard?)

[verse two: abstract rude]
keep the energy up
you can hennessy sip
just don’t get p-ssy drunk ‘less you can handle that sh-t
[?] hits to get you real numb
and if you dumb when you thirst give you [?]

[aceyalone]
it was a cold night
i lock and load the mic
i speak it like my god given right and it’s tight
i move on the path, my stereo on blast
i laugh at the traffic flying in my hovercraft
big wings, big things
it’s the under -n-lysis, ground palaces
smash who challenge this
leave your mind in paralysis
perfectly balance it
“those n-ggas are so talented!”
says the p-sserbyers, as we p-ss by
those fast guys with the gl-ss microscopic eye to scope
the mainstreamers
where the gr-ss is greener
the men are from mars and the women are from venus
and i’m from the stars
the p-ssy bars and p-n-s
i roam with the b-tterflies
i know it when you’re squeamish
rolling through l.a
often walk through l.a
still kick it like pele
sipping on a baileys
bust a u.f.o
let me wheels hit the flo’
hit the flo’ like i was an animal in heat
one love, one life, one beat and it goes
one sun, one life, one street and we roll

[hook]

[verse three: aceyalone]
we on the 1-10

[abstract rude]
405 and 10
101 and 5

[aceyalone]
60, 90, 91

[abstract rude]
7-10 drive
605 drive roll with us get live
friends don’t let friends, get a d.u.i
everybody know that in l.a. you need a whip
people macking on they chips, showboat all up on the strip
stacking up a grip
20 inch, abs [?]
mitsubishi’s and jeepers
text messages and beepers
princess cuts and platinum sets
[?] paint low low sweats
pearl tongue dipping in and out of the road rage
traffic and the road k!ll
so graphic from motor psychopathic with a tec
ferrari, [?], kateras and sitrons
delorians [?] compressors we roll on
we keep in between the lines
some people be mashers
mashers, the chase is part of the catch for the one time
h-lla coppers and helicopters
i’m under the ponch of flight ramp at lax
it’d be smart to like vep and jeff from the parking structure
leaving them black and white vex off the style of my protects
(hey next exit)

[hook]

[verse four: abstract rude]
whatcha wanna do huh?
when we get to flipping, rip the gift of gab
when hit the mix and cut and do the scratch
to the stutter step for the la style and back
rhythm meticulous to acey/ab’
the myka, p.e.a.c.e., and jup’ and volume 10
the ganja k and nefert-ti, sid, can’t forget funky trend
the urban props, c.v.e. and we be m-ss men
the dark leaf, [?], hip hop klan
the o.m.d. b-st-rd, figures ov speech
and why do we roll the fast lane?
cause we got n-ggas to reach

[aceyalone]
we come out in a verse
should i put it in reverse?
too late to turn back, we got the undying thirst
we’re so far first we’re last
so well versed and rehe-rs-d that when we blast off
at the choppers it sound proper
but it’s not the show stopper
it’s the unstoppable hip hoppers coasting up above you
giving you reason to roll when don’t n0body love you
roll with the rollers
power by the solar
soul controller, mic controller, straight without the cola
i used to burn rubber in my stroller
the wheels came off
young baby ghetto david h-sselhoff
knight rider with the navigation flight guider
insider, outsider, ain’t n0body tighter

[abstract rude]
sitting in the center of divider
confirming with a radar gun
emergency lane make the freeway wider
crossing over [?] dots and different cops
and when i stop i call box to help a fox
with jumper cables and jacks
hitchhikers
they be rolling back on track on math and switch mic up
burning my name on an almanac
calm and relaxed
push b-tton on cruise control
put my feet on the flo’
turn on the radio

- the a team lyrics

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