Drive Slow / Taste Like Heaven REASON (Ft. Xian Bell)

[Part I: Drive Slow]

[Intro]
Yeah
Bunta-bunta-bunta-bunt-bunta-bunta-bunt
My grandfather used to tell me like

[Verse 1: REASON]
The good die young, everything that he said proven
Ever since Del died, they got my head ruined
My prayers go out to his loved ones, I'm sittin’ here fucked up
Can't remember the last thing that I said to him, man this shit crazy
Wasn't the closest, nah, but every meet was special
Got me recruitin’ shit, we almost shared a team together
Worked on our jumper, cone drills, we shared our dream together
And now that nigga gone, but I mean whatever
Not a disrespectful whatever, more like
“REASON, you never made the effort, and now you preachin‘ that he's special”
Touché, those hypocritical lies
These my thoughts while I'm in traffic, takin' off my nigga tie
It's been a long day, but tomorrow I'm paid
Been slavin' and workin' hard, prayin’ I get a raise
This that drive slow music, in traffic textin’ bitches from your iPhone music
You text, you wanna see her, she like, “I know stupid”
Instantly you think about how loud she be screamin' when you diggin’ her out
You in the hood, you could've been plottin' how to get out
But you text your address, and now her nigga in route