[{"id":5817072,"name":"Driving Under the Influence","trackName":"Driving Under the Influence","artistName":"Busdriver","albumName":"Memoirs of the Elephantman","duration":177.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\n\nMetallic ballad, drum machine mallet\nThat may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\nThey were spoon fed to reduce back talk\nGive you a bloody, little for your money\nCause I caulked your honey\nJust because she got a runny clit\nSaying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\nBut she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\nHasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\nPart of her's sick and breathes and clucks\nAnd eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\nA bum is what she wants stricken with greed\nShe'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\nShe'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\nBut her young twat's hot like sun spots\nFate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\nBut by the cd and mix boards\nTo say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\nAnd try to swim to shore\nI'm not controlled by a recessive gene\nI wore my impressor jeans\nLooking for the best of things\nSwimming in infested streams\nTaking advantage of big chested queens\n\nBusdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\nOn the mean streets where you been seen sleep\nAnd your teams weak and that's why\nYou want your (?)\nAnd mother fuckers are so righteous\nTalking bout get rid of the white bitch\nStop rapping high pitched\nBut it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\nI took a leap of faith over a knee brace\nBut in any case, you're just an empty face\nWho drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\nI've achieved my place\nI didn't win it in a sweepstakes\nSo if you sneak on my estate\nIt better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\nAh Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\nWe don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\nNow, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\nAnd sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\nBut they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\nBut never would I infringe the West or mend and press\nOr pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\nAnd I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\nSo read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\nBusdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\nI'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Driving Under the Influence\n  artist: Busdriver\n  album: Memoirs of the Elephantman\n  duration_ms: 177000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n\n  Metallic ballad, drum machine mallet\n  That may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\n  They were spoon fed to reduce back talk\n  Give you a bloody, little for your money\n  Cause I caulked your honey\n  Just because she got a runny clit\n  Saying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\n  But she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\n  Hasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\n  Part of her's sick and breathes and clucks\n  And eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\n  A bum is what she wants stricken with greed\n  She'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\n  She'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\n  But her young twat's hot like sun spots\n  Fate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\n  But by the cd and mix boards\n  To say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\n  And try to swim to shore\n  I'm not controlled by a recessive gene\n  I wore my impressor jeans\n  Looking for the best of things\n  Swimming in infested streams\n  Taking advantage of big chested queens\n\n  Busdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\n  On the mean streets where you been seen sleep\n  And your teams weak and that's why\n  You want your (?)\n  And mother fuckers are so righteous\n  Talking bout get rid of the white bitch\n  Stop rapping high pitched\n  But it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\n  I took a leap of faith over a knee brace\n  But in any case, you're just an empty face\n  Who drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\n  I've achieved my place\n  I didn't win it in a sweepstakes\n  So if you sneak on my estate\n  It better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\n  Ah Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\n  We don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\n  Now, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\n  And sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\n  But they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\n  But never would I infringe the West or mend and press\n  Or pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\n  And I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\n  So read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\n  Busdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\n  I'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n"},{"id":19208087,"name":"Driving Under The Influence","trackName":"Driving Under The Influence","artistName":"Busdriver","albumName":"Memoirs Of The Elephantman","duration":173.505306,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\n\nMetallic ballad, drum machine mallet\nThat may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\nThey were spoon fed to reduce back talk\nGive you a bloody, little for your money\nCause I caulked your honey\nJust because she got a runny clit\nSaying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\nBut she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\nHasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\nPart of her's sick and breathes and clucks\nAnd eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\nA bum is what she wants stricken with greed\nShe'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\nShe'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\nBut her young twat's hot like sun spots\nFate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\nBut by the cd and mix boards\nTo say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\nAnd try to swim to shore\nI'm not controlled by a recessive gene\nI wore my impressor jeans\nLooking for the best of things\nSwimming in infested streams\nTaking advantage of big chested queens\n\nBusdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\nOn the mean streets where you been seen sleep\nAnd your teams weak and that's why\nYou want your (?)\nAnd mother fuckers are so righteous\nTalking bout get rid of the white bitch\nStop rapping high pitched\nBut it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\nI took a leap of faith over a knee brace\nBut in any case, you're just an empty face\nWho drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\nI've achieved my place\nI didn't win it in a sweepstakes\nSo if you sneak on my estate\nIt better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\nAh Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\nWe don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\nNow, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\nAnd sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\nBut they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\nBut never would I infringe the West or mend and press\nOr pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\nAnd I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\nSo read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\nBusdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\nI'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Driving Under The Influence\n  artist: Busdriver\n  album: Memoirs Of The Elephantman\n  duration_ms: 173505\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n\n  Metallic ballad, drum machine mallet\n  That may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\n  They were spoon fed to reduce back talk\n  Give you a bloody, little for your money\n  Cause I caulked your honey\n  Just because she got a runny clit\n  Saying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\n  But she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\n  Hasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\n  Part of her's sick and breathes and clucks\n  And eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\n  A bum is what she wants stricken with greed\n  She'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\n  She'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\n  But her young twat's hot like sun spots\n  Fate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\n  But by the cd and mix boards\n  To say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\n  And try to swim to shore\n  I'm not controlled by a recessive gene\n  I wore my impressor jeans\n  Looking for the best of things\n  Swimming in infested streams\n  Taking advantage of big chested queens\n\n  Busdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\n  On the mean streets where you been seen sleep\n  And your teams weak and that's why\n  You want your (?)\n  And mother fuckers are so righteous\n  Talking bout get rid of the white bitch\n  Stop rapping high pitched\n  But it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\n  I took a leap of faith over a knee brace\n  But in any case, you're just an empty face\n  Who drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\n  I've achieved my place\n  I didn't win it in a sweepstakes\n  So if you sneak on my estate\n  It better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\n  Ah Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\n  We don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\n  Now, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\n  And sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\n  But they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\n  But never would I infringe the West or mend and press\n  Or pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\n  And I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\n  So read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\n  Busdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\n  I'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n"},{"id":6304951,"name":"Driving Under the Influence","trackName":"Driving Under the Influence","artistName":"BUSDRIVER","albumName":"Memoirs of the Elephant Man","duration":177.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\n\nMetallic ballad, drum machine mallet\nThat may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\nThey were spoon fed to reduce back talk\nGive you a bloody, little for your money\nCause I caulked your honey\nJust because she got a runny clit\nSaying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\nBut she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\nHasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\nPart of her's sick and breathes and clucks\nAnd eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\nA bum is what she wants stricken with greed\nShe'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\nShe'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\nBut her young twat's hot like sun spots\nFate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\nBut by the cd and mix boards\nTo say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\nAnd try to swim to shore\nI'm not controlled by a recessive gene\nI wore my impressor jeans\nLooking for the best of things\nSwimming in infested streams\nTaking advantage of big chested queens\n\nBusdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\nOn the mean streets where you been seen sleep\nAnd your teams weak and that's why\nYou want your (?)\nAnd mother fuckers are so righteous\nTalking bout get rid of the white bitch\nStop rapping high pitched\nBut it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\nI took a leap of faith over a knee brace\nBut in any case, you're just an empty face\nWho drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\nI've achieved my place\nI didn't win it in a sweepstakes\nSo if you sneak on my estate\nIt better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\nAh Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\nWe don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\nNow, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\nAnd sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\nBut they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\nBut never would I infringe the West or mend and press\nOr pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\nAnd I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\nSo read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\nBusdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\nI'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Driving Under the Influence\n  artist: BUSDRIVER\n  album: Memoirs of the Elephant Man\n  duration_ms: 177000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n\n  Metallic ballad, drum machine mallet\n  That may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\n  They were spoon fed to reduce back talk\n  Give you a bloody, little for your money\n  Cause I caulked your honey\n  Just because she got a runny clit\n  Saying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\n  But she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\n  Hasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\n  Part of her's sick and breathes and clucks\n  And eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\n  A bum is what she wants stricken with greed\n  She'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\n  She'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\n  But her young twat's hot like sun spots\n  Fate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\n  But by the cd and mix boards\n  To say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\n  And try to swim to shore\n  I'm not controlled by a recessive gene\n  I wore my impressor jeans\n  Looking for the best of things\n  Swimming in infested streams\n  Taking advantage of big chested queens\n\n  Busdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\n  On the mean streets where you been seen sleep\n  And your teams weak and that's why\n  You want your (?)\n  And mother fuckers are so righteous\n  Talking bout get rid of the white bitch\n  Stop rapping high pitched\n  But it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\n  I took a leap of faith over a knee brace\n  But in any case, you're just an empty face\n  Who drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\n  I've achieved my place\n  I didn't win it in a sweepstakes\n  So if you sneak on my estate\n  It better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\n  Ah Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\n  We don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\n  Now, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\n  And sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\n  But they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\n  But never would I infringe the West or mend and press\n  Or pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\n  And I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\n  So read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\n  Busdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\n  I'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n"},{"id":19052707,"name":"Driving Under the Influence","trackName":"Driving Under the Influence","artistName":"Busdriver","albumName":"Memoirs of the Elephant Man","duration":173.270204,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\n\nMetallic ballad, drum machine mallet\nThat may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\nThey were spoon fed to reduce back talk\nGive you a bloody, little for your money\nCause I caulked your honey\nJust because she got a runny clit\nSaying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\nBut she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\nHasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\nPart of her's sick and breathes and clucks\nAnd eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\nA bum is what she wants stricken with greed\nShe'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\nShe'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\nBut her young twat's hot like sun spots\nFate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\nBut by the cd and mix boards\nTo say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\nAnd try to swim to shore\nI'm not controlled by a recessive gene\nI wore my impressor jeans\nLooking for the best of things\nSwimming in infested streams\nTaking advantage of big chested queens\n\nBusdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\nOn the mean streets where you been seen sleep\nAnd your teams weak and that's why\nYou want your (?)\nAnd mother fuckers are so righteous\nTalking bout get rid of the white bitch\nStop rapping high pitched\nBut it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\nI took a leap of faith over a knee brace\nBut in any case, you're just an empty face\nWho drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\nI've achieved my place\nI didn't win it in a sweepstakes\nSo if you sneak on my estate\nIt better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\nAh Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\nWe don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\nNow, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\nAnd sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\nBut they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\nBut never would I infringe the West or mend and press\nOr pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\nAnd I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\nSo read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\nBusdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\nI'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival\nNiggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\nOur situation ain't improving wit the bible\nWe're moving in to all the units and the side show\nWhen you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\nYou'll be dead on arrival","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Driving Under the Influence\n  artist: Busdriver\n  album: Memoirs of the Elephant Man\n  duration_ms: 173270\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n\n  Metallic ballad, drum machine mallet\n  That may release a pallet of celebrity droppings on the cat walk\n  They were spoon fed to reduce back talk\n  Give you a bloody, little for your money\n  Cause I caulked your honey\n  Just because she got a runny clit\n  Saying she wants a man to touch for the feelings\n  But she'd rather get it fucked to the ceiling\n  Hasn't menstruated in months she's concealing\n  Part of her's sick and breathes and clucks\n  And eats nothing but chicken feed, ear plugs\n  A bum is what she wants stricken with greed\n  She'll have you collecting change into to tin cups\n\n  She'll eat up your cum drops like gum drops\n  But her young twat's hot like sun spots\n  Fate cannot be determined by a Ouija board\n  But by the cd and mix boards\n  To say out the fifth word of this chord against yours\n  And try to swim to shore\n  I'm not controlled by a recessive gene\n  I wore my impressor jeans\n  Looking for the best of things\n  Swimming in infested streams\n  Taking advantage of big chested queens\n\n  Busdriver, the master of the freedom of speech\n  On the mean streets where you been seen sleep\n  And your teams weak and that's why\n  You want your (?)\n  And mother fuckers are so righteous\n  Talking bout get rid of the white bitch\n  Stop rapping high pitched\n  But it's my niche, I'll do what I wish\n  I took a leap of faith over a knee brace\n  But in any case, you're just an empty face\n  Who drinks henny chased, with a weed that's laced\n  I've achieved my place\n  I didn't win it in a sweepstakes\n  So if you sneak on my estate\n  It better be by mistake or leave needing a knee brace\n  Ah Jeez don't hate, we don't high speed chase\n  We don't speak to cheap skates, or eat beef stakes\n  Now, with a feta aid I made cheese and papes\n  And sold heaps of tapes and made niggas replace\n  But they're snooty ballers, spending most of their time at beauty parlors\n  But never would I infringe the West or mend and press\n  Or pinch your breast, cause I been fresh in every way\n  And I'll singe my flesh if I ever betray\n  So read 'em and weep and make the coin sweep\n  Busdriver, mastered the freedom of speech\n  I'll never be beneath, the mean streets\n\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n  Niggas, pick up your feet and get it moving because,\n  Our situation ain't improving wit the bible\n  We're moving in to all the units and the side show\n  When you're clueless and foolish and driving under the influence\n  You'll be dead on arrival\n"}]