El-P

El-P - Drive songtekst

Je score:

C'mon, ma, can I borrow the keys?

My generation is carpooling with doom and disease

Buckle up, skipper

The new american Asterix

You're riding shotty with Jesus of Nascar-eth

At the end of the day, we all sittin' on 24s

365 horses, no horseshit

with nothing but a learner's permit

Delinquents on the autobahn poppin' our airbags off the worthless

I'm not depressed, man

I'm just a fucking New Yorker

Who knows that sittin' in traffic with these bastards is torture

I'll be in a jalopy with a mami getting head rest

And howl at the glowing moon roof as proof that I'm not dead yet

And y'all can all give me the hummer

'Cause in the meantime, I'ma pimp this ride like fly formula one-er

This is the El-Product summer

With a gleam of factory gun metal sheen grey and no vin number



[Chorus]

Drive, Drive, Drive

Hopped in the hooptie screaming "freedom is mine!"

Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive

Bumpin' the tune I so conveniently provide

Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive 

Don't have to be flashy, I'll use any old ride

Drive, Drive, Drive, Drive

Hop in the whip and peel away, stay alive



Cars slide by with the bomming system

Like New York is Fallujah with metal gear using christians

Posted up for the gods of oil mining

In a military humvee with no bullet proof siding (sorry, guys)

Brooklyn, baby

I'm waterlocked walkin' nervous

When the curfew was imposed closing transportational service

This gonzomatic fear turns me Hunter S. Thompson

With my lawyer leaning over the side view mirror vomiting

You call 'em windows, I call 'em asbestos lesseners

For this wheezing in my chest I'll need more than fucking air fresheners

There ain't no easy pass

Hands on the dash

You'll get rocked in casba if the movement's too fast

Here come the cannon balls, run

Get in your gremlin

The days of thunder's creepin' up sooner than you expected

Paranoid brethren disable their onstar knowing they'll trace us

Pull us over and shout "get out le car!"



[Chorus]



These thugs got the heart of Herbie the Luv Bug

It don't take a speed racing mind to see that they're just stuck

I'll wrap your promo truck with a nambla stencil to prove that you're fucking babies

Frontin' up in a rental

I knew a kid who navigated it slippery 

And fuel injected a speed ball on hs way to Atlantic City

Out the race before even making his mark

And now he'll never pick his shit up out of long term parking

My triple A card has one too many initials

And autobot on the fringe of liquid addiction spinning fish-tails

About to careen on some toonces shit off the cliff

But love of the sport of racing is keeping me out of coffins

Camu was like "Fuck it, just keep the beats dirty dusty"

I grabbed the CD radio like "10/4 good buddy"

I'll keep running the track

Even when muddy

'Cause my insurance don't cover leaving the pit crew that love me

So I drive



[Chorus]
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Taal: Engels

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