Lyrics
Big Gipp
Yeah, Killing season, mud on my hands, Bullets and Banners I got blood on the flag
Soccer moms, picket lines in these wicked times, Big Corns blue stripes that's a short change
Want the whole block, whole city, whole state, the rats can't eat cause it no weight
Cash wash the bundles on the corner, put em in stores And put bar codes on em'
Paint job tye-dye, four thirty four lines, 285 we on this Night slide, we on the Night Drive
The paint job tye-dye, Big Tuna in da Point, Eddie put the Rubies off in my first gold
Drive til the sun gone the moon came back, blow
Snow balls, cruising on 90
Wear my shades at night, the chrome so shiny
James Worthy
You can't even see me, even in the shadow of death,
I gotta win cause I hear my heart beat in my chest,
Take a drive in the city just to clear ya head,
Remember who you start with might not be in the end,
Sometimes you need a night drive, (ooh) yeah,
Sometimes you need a night drive, (ooh) yeah,
Big Gipp
Yeah, slick Gipp since the girls had the big hips, slick Gipp since the playas call they bo whips,
Slick Gipp had the drop top moon roof, blowing moon rocks riding down Peachtree St.
Decatur still its great still getting at the paper, Spaghetti Junction got the whole city jumping,
Live like Six Flags on the Southside, slide with the Braves When we on the North Side,
Stone Mountain, to Altoona, the fishing good, Buckhead All the way to the back woods,
Money sweet, riding through these Georgia. streets, Looking at my Georgia Peach,
Its just a night slide night ride, Welcome to candy land, Home of candy paint,
Land of the moonshine, Clocks with no time, 285.
James Worthy
You can't even see me, even in the shadow of death,
I gotta win cause I hear my heart beat in my chest,
Take a drive in the city just to clear ya head,
Remember who you start with might not be in the end,
Sometimes you need a night drive, (ooh) yeah,
Sometimes you need a night drive, (ooh) yeah,
John William, Flautist
Crawling out the gutter, oozing through the sewage,
We flying down Campbellton the flutist and the mutant
Got the torch tucked low, Liquid Loud on Chill
Bringing tears down ya face like when Lou left Will, even Still,
Grinning ear to ear steady laughing, shooters in the wing, Neither one named McGavin,
Cold to the soul, rotten to the core, they line em up and Drop em and call it Connect 4
Now we riding through the westside block still hot,
But I'm clutching two 9's like i'm huggin J.J. Watt
Got Burn One on the beat, so you know it ain't no Stopping me
They bowing to me, like Martin did the Hoshitoshi,
Goons still creeping though, they love to lurk,
But they'll catch me when Black Tony report to work
So we finish up the Night Drive, still bumping Sky High
Gotta rep the westside, 225 Certified
CAMERON GIPP, DAVID SWEETEN, JAMES WORTHY, JOHN CONNER
Songtrust Ave