O.c. - The Pursuit lyrics

Published

0 194 0

O.c. - The Pursuit lyrics

[Verse 1] Whip shining when I pull up Greets and pounds, what up? All of my life been a stand-up dude, my drive Stretched far as the I-95 NASCAR affiliate with highway miles But not attached to a sponsor I'm what you call an independent delegate kinda biased to Obama Burnin' Pirellis, breakin' the law while talkin' on a celly Low in the bucket seat like 'f** it' Excess speed in the fast lane Everything's a blur, a few co*ktails entail If I get stopped, I'm gettin' popped cause I'm way past the limit Highway RPMs break digits Doppler says rain Tires grippin' the street causing me to fishtail, peel, and hydroplane Stock car drivers dyin' set the track on fire Johnny Blaze before he trans' to ghost rider [Hook] In the d**h race dippin' from the boys in blue Got them run flats in case the spikes in place Issued by Dunlap they made, mashin' the throttle Crossin' state lines like The Bandit in the Trans-Am With blue fatigues justice on my a**, damn Making my OJ getaway, cops in hot pursuit Radio ahead to clear the interstate [Verse 2] Ready as Andretti, holdin' the mic steady At the steering wheel whippin' the Tahoe Chevy Hoggin' the lane up, speed limits can't restrain him Highway patrol wanna catch him, but can't contain him Grand Theft Auto, PS3 scenes change backgrounds playing games But don't involve quarters Dangers evolve like the Ice Road Truckers Warm-blooded in the cabin of my rig, sliding over water Nerves of steel, where the curves is real Slick as an oil spill, a pro in his field Vehicle options beats knockin' Other drivers facing a problem Luxury flows, the Aston Martin Ethanols, high octane, way past the point of obscene You crash and burn, I master the turns Whip game's proper, eludin' coppers in hot pursuit And up above, being watched by helicopters [Hook] [Verse 3] On a one-lane highway, manual gear shiftin' Running pistons, M.O.P's in my system Windows half down from the speed bring tears to my vision Play chicken if you dare, I'm not flinchin' Put me in this position, it's a head-on collision No eye batting, your a** better have religion Revvin' the engine, speed racing, heat blazin' Exhaust pipes tearin' up the rose-tar pavement A weapon on wheels, pedal under my heels Mash the floor, comparisons of pa**ing doors These bars are lapping, this a record braking time Apollo the architect of the track's design Break it down 2 gears to 3rd, meaning the verse Burning the clutch up, opposite now, going in reverse Doing doughnuts, kick up smoke cloud, escape cover Get the f** out of dodge, skirt off and burn rubber [Hook]

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.