Making Music

Yes, uh, me personally

I just start, just started driving. Congratulations

Thank you very much. This song is like

For them days you just cruisin', kickin' it with your boys

Clowin', whatever. Crenshaw, whatever your little street is, whatever

It's like this

It's like you sippin' bourbon slow

Swervin' low in your seat, nowhere to go

The windows low cause the heat, oh what you know?

There go your folks right up the street, you slow your roll

They all hop in, y'all go and eat, you shoot the breeze

On how the homie just got clowned by some B's

He spit his game, they shot him down and with ease

And now he's makin' up excuses, nigga please

This happens every time we out, now close your mouth

Always lyin' on some shit, what's that about?

We your boys, and we got love no matter what

Now put your seat belt on, sit back and shut up!

Oooh, turn that up that shit is knockin', that's my cut

Two 15's up in the trunk, we ain't no punk

Heard us comin' blocks away playin' slump

Thought it was an earthquake your heart sunk

Look here's some niggas in a Cutlass, what a punk

Throwin' up some gang signs, I just ignore it

And when the light turns green, I simply floor it

Left them suckers at the light feelin' dumb

Fightin' over fingers and thumbs, I ain't the one

Call me a buster or a mark if you choose it

But at least I'll be alive makin' music

I said but at least I'll be alive makin' music

Bitch, just cruisin'

"Baby, let's cruise, away from here"