Drive Slow Bel Air (Ft. Mick Jenkins)

[Hook]
Driving through the city and you know how we riding
Hundred soldiers with me so you know we not silent
Hazards on, we in a all-black motorcade
Clogging up this shit you think that it's a parade

You need to drive slow, drive slow, drive slow
Looking through your window better
Drive slow, drive slow
Put your arm out the window, let them know that you riding

[Verse 1: Bel-Air]
Start your engine, on some race track shit
I'm getting lawyer checks, no need to go debate that shit
I'm from the south side of Chicago where they hate that shit
Public Enemy number one, Flava Flav that shit
Went to a school where students might bust it out with the teachers
From a city where niggas might shoot it out with the preachers
Everybody gang-gang and rock the freshest of sneakers
Picture perfect woman, nigga, got a bad Mona Lisa
The youngest of the shorties got the biggest of tools
That's how it go around my fucking neck of the woods
So bring the motorcade, I drive slow like Pablo
Got so many with me, I could walk through with my eyes closed
And still don't get touched
See, money talks, y'all really don't get discussed
I'm a businessman, I'm only here to get my ends up
Invade these white neighborhoods like we they nuisance
My V8 engine, y'all sweeter than some V-8 juices