I’m Driven

[Intro: Willie The Kid]
Yeah, it's recording?
This here is for the world's famous
Aphiliates Music Group, I got the VS brothers with me tonight man
We call this one "Driven", Willie The Kid nigga

[Verse 1: Willie The Kid]
It's the driving force behind, it's luxury vehicle, see
This music is just a vehicle, for me to make visible, the un-seeable
Like a voice for the speechless, I'm cohesive
It sticks like an adhesive
Leases an alternative, for the 9, athletic
More than most of these rap niggas, pathetic
There you have, yeah, I said it
Get it off my chest like Vicks or a Vixen, l finish shitting
You see the checks on my kicks, let me finish shitting
This a briefing, matter fact, minutes from the last meeting
Read the contents of the food that you're eating
It's right there on the box, right there on the bag
I'm hard, I am glad
Speckle Fox on my back, Cognac in my glass
Niggas trash, I ain't mad
That's why I'm working with new producers
They hit the pads with more compassion
I can really rap, niggas all swag
Flashing a bunch of squares like Plaid
Me? I'm Dale Earnhart, seat-belts fasten
No pit stops, nigga, never crashing

[Chorus: Willie The Kid] (2x)
More drive than your average artist
Everybody hard but I'm going the hardest
The rest of ya'll lazy, it's given, nigga, I'm driven

[Verse 2: Willie The Kid]
I'm driven, no designated driver
Like (?) better call you a Cab
Yeah, as I recall to my past, past all the odds (?)
A few cars tattooed on the (?)
(?) blew the cash
All these bullshit rappers, push (?)
But, when shit hit the fan, I soothe the itch like a back scratcher
(?) backpackers, new breed, I'm a distant cousin
Offspring going top speed, fucking half breeds; Mullatos
Pure bread, Willie need more bread like Chicago
Dough like pillsbury, I'm driven, you can't follow
Flavor like Rosemary, I'm like Sage on stage, it's my time
Niggas jerk chicken, no need to curry on
Willie The Kid, I'm Paprika, these niggas can't drive man
They're back seaters
No sir, I got drive no chauffeur, most of ya'll wanna start
But, never want to practice
I'm a ball, got shorts in my trunk, niggas can't dribble
They just wanna dunk

[Chorus: Willie The Kid] (2x)