paroles de chanson Drive By - Potter Payper , Slim

I still drive past where I used to shot my fiends
Where I made my first rack
Where I lost my teens
Where I decamped with it
Where I lost machines
Give me 2 9s of dirty and a box of clean
Before the 48 laws I used to Rob for Greene
I need a straight drop machine and more sub-machines
I need 100 more mill for me plus the gs
I need 50 more drivers, all these shots to beat
All this snow you would've thought I was from Costa Rica
I can bring it to your door like a box of pizza
My white ting's nice but my browning's nicer
I told her drop 2 bricks off at the Nisa
That's 36 twice, these phones are on 36/5
All my soldiers know that early shift grind
I told her put this in your p*m
She must've thought I got a dirty, sick mind
Cause I ain't tryna see induction for the 36th time
I still drive past the yard where I lock machines
Still drive past the block and see lots of fiends
I still drive past where I used to shot my fiends
Where I made my first rack
Where I lost my teens
I still drive past the yard where I lock machines
Still drive past the block and see lots of fiends
I still drive past where I used to shot my fiends
Where the pussio feds try stop my dreams
I still drive past the yard where I locked machines
You'd say the blocks hot, and I'd probably agree
My next door neighbour used to lock my keys
I was in and out bait but that was common to me
I never had a grand, when I was shotting at Steve's
Spun me on the A3, I had to lodge my weed
When they kicked my mum's door, I had to flush the grease
I still landed on the wing, eating custard creams
This ain't a sob story, I was watching my pennies
I had bricks in the blender, getting boshed at Debbie's
I just drove past the spot where we kicked his head in
He was laying down leaking, like he pissed his bedding
I was minding my business, cooking a pack
I ain't tryna sound hot but I'm looking for straps
I got lost out of town, I started looking for cats
I told myself that I wouldn't be back
I still drive past the yard where I locked machines
Still drive past the block and see lots of fiends
I still drive past where I used to shot my fiends
Where I made my first rack
Where I lost my teens
I still drive past the yard where I lock machines
Still drive past the block and see lots of fiends
I still drive past where I used to shot my fiends
Where the pussio feds tried stop my dreams