Lyrics:
Yeah, ha-ha-ha (bang)
Yeah, Bizarre Kid comin' at you
Eminem and Fuzz, and Mr. Swifty, haha
No one's iller than me (what?)
No one, no one is
there too
And the way they took off in a cloud of smoke
I still can't believe it was true
They had their windows down and I
Was sitting in the back
With
us
Why your secretary had to leave this town?
And shouldn't widow Jones be told
To keep her window shades all pulled completely down?"
"Well, Mr
"And Mr. Baker, can you tell us
Why your secretary had to leave this town?
And shouldn't ol' widow Jones be told
To keep her window shades all pulled
We merkin' four-twenty eat island three five N2Deep
Mack 10 under seat for carjacking Passenger 57's
A Product 19 who gets the dumpster behind 7
You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel
Mr. Grinch
You're a bad banana
the people on the street
Open those windows up
A hundred floors below me
Pilin' those houses up
Pilin' them higher, higher, higher
I can feel them swayin'
of passengers that's pretty big
And they'll all want a lift to Brown's Hotel,
'Cause lots of them been traveling for quite a spell
All the way from
Drivin' down the motherfuckin' highway
The flyway hey bitch you goin' my way?
Now I got a passenger
I look at the miniskirt now I'm askin' her
and gangsta!
(Mr. G'stacka)
I'm leanin back and rollin up the window, we blowin indo
creepin up through the hood hittin up my kinfolk
and if you didn't know
down a Sodom and Gommorah Refugees we nah go so
[Chorus]
So talk weel if you vex, try and jump in a mi chest, you Mr. Punk, well
Come and do your
drive?
Suicide doors on the passenger side?
Do the windows roll down? do the doors lift high?
Do the car change colors when that bitch drive by?
I
all I can be
You niggas Marcus Camby, washed up
Pussy, fix your panties, I'm Mr. Marcus, you gettin' fucked, uh
You ain't heard nothin' harder since
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
You fuckin with the mutha fuckin realist niggas
[The Game:]
It's 3, The hard way
Black Lambo, No passengers
Black Ski mask, Chain Saw Massacre
Kill
joint
Used to scoop her from the eastside
Know she a queen she raised by the Beyhive
Raised by Latifah know she smoke a three-five
Roll the windows down
joint
Used to scoop her from the eastside
Know she a queen she raised by the Beyhive
Raised by Latifah know she smoke a three-five
Roll the windows down
Sitting in the passenger seat
Holding your hand
Stars in our eyes
And listening to the band
We both agreed
Wrote songs about us
Perfectly in love
And love
It could be lambo or a honda it don't really matter long as you in it
Riding passenger wit ya feet up on the dashboard and the blunt lit
If we pass
at the window for you every night
It's still better than
Sitting in silence on the passenger side
It's still better than
Saying love you without the I
I
how easily you replaced me
I hate you for getting on fine with your life
Watched you drive past my window every night
And now she’s sat in your
how easily you replaced me
I hate you for getting on fine with your life
Watched you drive past my window every night
And now she's sat in your
One way ticket, window seat
Heartache at 30,000 feet
The future fades into memories.
I'll get by somehow.
Three point landing at L.A.X.
Pockets
asleep with some with a freak
'cause the chicks I deal with give me everything cheap, chief
[Mr. Cheeks]
I hear them talkin, we push the whips and still
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