NoFace Records - E30

Verse 1 (Aggressive)

Yeah. Look.

E30 in the trenches, watch the rims spin.

(YAWK!)

Tint darker than the block that I grew up in.

Keep a hammer on the seat, I ain't tucking shit.

Y'all boys talking heavy but ain't busting clips.

I slide down Canal, tires screaming out.

FUCK A STOP SIGN, THIS IS WHAT THE STREETS ABOUT!

I catch a opp lacking at the red light.

(Boom!)

I make a wrong turn turn into a dead right.

Drop gear. Disappear. Leave 'em in the smoke.

My pockets getting fat, yours is looking broke.

I'm swinging through the lanes, gripping on the wood.

I bring a vintage German classic to the fucking hood.

Yeah, watch the bumper scrape. We making an escape.

I got the city locked down with the yellow tape.

Chorus

Riding down Canal in the E30.

Windows rolled up but we doing dirty.

Bags in the trunk, yeah we getting paid.

Hustle in the sun, plotting in the shade.

E30 on Canal, watch the wheels gleam.

Living out a gutta girl's diamond dream.

Shift it, drift it, blowing through the light.

We own the block, yeah we own the night.

Verse 2 (Double Time)

Wait a minute let me switch it up and get a little vicious.

I'm a menace with the digits, all my bitches look delicious.

Hit the pedal to the metal, man, I'm never moving cautious.

Got the Beamer sitting lower than a motherfucking coffin.

Look at the dash, look at the stash, watch how I flip it and get it in cash.

You in the back, taking a nap, I'm on the corner just pushing the pack.

Look at the leather, it's matching the weather, I'm putting this beautiful puzzle together.

We dropping the clutch and we floating on feather, I promised the block I'll be balling forever.

(Hold up, let the beat breathe)

Watch me hit the drift.

(Tires screeching sound effect)

Give these fake thugs a motherfucking face lift.

I'm sliding on the pavement, strictly for the payment.

Put 'em in a body bag, put 'em in the basement.

Chorus

Riding down Canal in the E30.

Windows rolled up but we doing dirty.

Bags in the trunk, yeah we getting paid.

Hustle in the sun, plotting in the shade.

E30 on Canal, watch the wheels gleam.

Living out a gutta girl's diamond dream.

Shift it, drift it, blowing through the light.

We own the block, yeah we own the night.

Verse 3 (Wordplay)

Look... let's just have a conversation.

I treat Canal Street like it's a vacation.

I got the Beamer purring like a stray cat.

You trying to find the plug? I know where he stay at.

They say I'm moving reckless, look at my necklace.

I eat a rival rapper for a motherfucking breakfast.

Classic German engineering, gripping on the steering.

Got the trunk blasting heavy so I know they all hearing.

I'm shifting gears, yeah, I'm shifting the culture.

I prey on the weak like a hood-ass vulture.

I'm dodging the potholes, dipping from the sirens.

I'm building up an empire inside these environments.

They want the blueprint, but they can't trace it.

I took a dirty dollar bill and let the bank chase it.

(Ha!)

Outro

Yeah. Killa.

E30 shit. You already know what it is.

Sliding down Canal, strictly for the paper.

Big moves only.

Keep the engine running, we ain't stopping for nobody.

Yeah.