DeAngelo Xavier - Newtown

Ridin’ with a bad bitch beside me
My hands on her thighs cause I know she wanna ride me 
No we not in love just some devilish shit
I don’t get too attached I can loosen my grip
The time when night falls is usually when the mood would get switched
Niggas desperate they quick to make a murder attempt (What’s up)
But no relation on the move to get faded 
All my niggas in the back smoking on a loosey
A slight of hand save us from the traffic jam smoothly, shit
Tank on E and I’m dying to speed
Flipping through some pocket change like a pack of loose leaf
I can play it cool like I got some money on me
A bit lame to be asking for change and the bums on the corner doing the same thing, ain’t it a shame
I really wonder how much a dollar ah cost
we running late pump the gas and hit the exhaust
Running through the red lights like the Feds on me
In back they wildin’ out like ah bug on em
Told em to chill cause a nigga can’t see from the rear
And the driver side is heavy where I keep my concealed, for real
My foot weighing on the peddle plate
No sight of Traffic so ain’t no need to heavy break
I swerve right, changing lanes watch me demonstrate
Hitting 80 on the way to hit the interstate
Now put your hands up high
Swerve swerve, we’re just swerving
Now put your hands up high
Swerve swerve, we keep swerving
Now put your fucking hands up high
Swerve swerve, im tired of swerving
Now keep your hands up high
Swerve
You’re driving like a maniac
So what
They passing the blunt
They handing it me, nigga I’m passing it up
Not into the ganja nigga I’m sober as fuck
Just trying get pussy and then I’m busting a nut
I’m ridin’ on they ass that’s a pause for the homophob
They ride their breaks like they’re dumb, why you drive so slow
I hit the horn so drive faster
Back to the peddle shit go viral if I had a camera, you fucking bastards
Its funny how it’s dead at night
Not a soul in sight but the mirrors dim from the light
And patrol watching and they clock your every move
And these crooked ass cops they fiending to make the news, for real
My foot on the peddle break
We pulling up to the spot, this the location
A parking lot full of people my niggas impatient
Trying to get into the party, my nigga we made it
Where the bitches at? Is overhead from the back
A bunch of bad jawns walking inside the Cul de sac

Written by:
DeAngelo Edmond

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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