I-95 v3

Lyrics

(Intro) (Dark blues guitar loop, eerie organ, a slow heavy 808 swell) Yeah. Miami to the D.C. Capital. Narco-trucker in the fast lane. Smoking on that rival company pack. Restricted. Rest in Piss. Let the diesel rumble. Let the lead fly. (Verse 1) Dropping a gear, crystal clear, see the smokey appear. Try to interfere, left a body in my rear. Got them eighties-four bricks of that South Beach snow. Cabin full of Dracos, automatics ready to blow. No weigh station stops, I'm just watching for the ops. Keep the fifth wheel locked while I'm swerving through the cops. I treat the interstates like a narco-delivery track. Got a reefer unit humming with the cargo in the back. Jake brake screaming in my ear, moving weight with no fear. Any driver tried to test the flow, got left upon the shoulder. Puffin' high-grade, getting paid, sitting in the shade. Got a switch on the glizzy, and a blood-red blade. Cartel cowboys in the cabin, making sure we maintain the pace. Leave his semi-truck in a ditch, with full magazine to his face. (Chorus) Eastbound and down? Nah, I’m Northbound and strapped. I-95, narco manifest is scrapped. White snow from the South, black steel for the Capital. Outlaw trucker moving tactical, strictly moving on attack. We don't yield for the ops, and we don't brake for no cops. Moving that raw-uncut that the country never saw. (Verse 2) Scanner going frantic, the panic is getting drastic. Rival runner from Atlanta left a body bag of plastic. He thought he was a king, now he smoking in a bed. Should’ve stayed in his lane, I put a hollow point in his head. Pop a pill, grip the wheel, I’m focused on the road. Moving a whole nation's load, got the hammer pinned down. Tell the senators at the loading dock the shipment is arriving. Fastest smuggler in the country, maintaining the speed. Draco in my lap, riding with the safety off. Send a burst into his logic and a magazine in his chest. I got connections in the District and a burner in the bunk. Every weigh station I blast past, leaving bullet shells behind. I put switch upon the tool, left his eighteen-wheeler in the dirt. Undisputed king of this highway, leaving all my targets blind. (Chorus) Eastbound and down? Nah, I’m Northbound and strapped. I-95, narco manifest is scrapped. White snow from the South, black steel for the Capital. Outlaw trucker moving tactical, strictly moving on attack. We don't yield for the ops, and we don't brake for no cops. Moving that raw-uncut that the country never saw. (Outro) Yeah. Capital city. Unload the white, load the lead. Cartel trucking, you already know what's up. Smoking on that competition pack. Big big blocks. (Sound of an airhorn fading into an echoing 808 drop) We gone.