Testi:
Cab The Track Four

Hello precious, your wit is a bit infectious And it has spread to all the wrong places Gotta love all the familiar faces See right through you, don

and tarentino Well connected like Nicodemo Skinny Joey, uhh, come on you niggas know me Capo de cape need work get at me one four deuce in amsterdam [

of the house slow, tellin that hoe come on let's go First I crack up the music then, hit the switch on my six-four Candy coated paint, got the bitches

'em up The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em In and out of lanes like a New York cab I'm Mr. Ol' King, that New York cab Who's this fake

mean ya time's up I love ya girlfriend every time I spend the night It's always on like a used car engine light I send a two-by-four right cross ya wig

Showin' a knack, give me a bangin' ass track I handle my biz so I can watch the dough stack (You know it) Even four-track to eight, twenty-four slide

Around Me type thought Yo bust it yo, yo We was chillin on the ave, buggin out lookin dap And these four cold boys rolled up in a cab They pulled out

actor Sorry Mr. Charlie won't chap dance And fuck the radio for telling me to snap jam I'm just expecting the spectator's respect here My net is from jet setters to cab

's some like, Stanley Kubrick Stanley Kubrick The track bouncy, no-body, get more rowdy than Suffolk County, peace to Crackhead Crowley Honky Thomas, Keb McGlocklin the whole crew Cab