Taxi Driver - Royce 5'9

I’m the taxi driver

Ridin around with me and my thoughts

In the back seat behind me speakin

To me while I’m drivin, I’m hearin 'em talk

To me sayin' where they wanna go

Soon as they get in and they close the door

And then I cruise to wherever we ridin'

Wherever you can imagine from coast to coast

I got a foot on the gas, I got my eye on the road

With an open mind as I roll, hopin to spy on my soul

I lose control, pull up to a liquor store then get blowed

Ridin down skid row, feelin kind of miserable

I been the same since my enemies came

You play the game, you get a foul, the penalty’s pain

Though I got a pen full of poison, the venom is fame

The light changes, I take a right on Memory Lane

And see, a couple niggas on the corner chillin

Lookin more and more familiar closer to 'em I get

I pull up, hit the locks, they open the door

And hop in and say they names is Hip and Hop

So I grin, pretend I don’t know 'em for shit

I ask «Ay, homie, why they call you Hip?»

He says «I'm hip-notic, hip-ocritical

I could say Dear Mama and wonder why they call you bitch

I seen drama, I step to the odds lookin at death in the eyes

They probably murder me, check my disguise

You see it’s money over bitches, bitches bring lies

Money bring trouble and trouble wanna follow me

Drop me on the corner of Flamingo and Koval

And remember all eyes on you

Then I come to a stop, he exits the car

So I leave and I hear shots

I’m the taxi driver

Ridin around with me and my thoughts

In the back seat behind me speakin

To me while I’m drivin, I’m hearin 'em talk

To me sayin' where they wanna go

Soon as they get in and they close the door

And then I cruise to wherever we ridin'

Wherever you can imagine from coast to coast

I’m the taxi driver, ridin with one passenger left

About to catch a left after I catch my breath

Peelin' past them times where niggas blast them nines

Paranoid, done already lost half my mind

I’m high thinkin' like what if the feds try to out me?

I pull up to a stop on a red light at South Street

I catch a parade goin by, full of rappers and snappers

A Cadillac float full of trapsters

Carryin a sign sayin «It's Our Time»

I wave sayin I would never diss y’all grind

So I’m waitin at the stoplight, South Street is jumpin

I look back at Hop like, people call you Hop, right?

(Yes!)

After that, he’s like «It's a green light

You can weave right through, if you got keen sight

To make you a right then, head for the valley

I’m Going Going to Cali Cali, uhh

Trust me, Mo Money Mo Problems

Especially when you built for the stars

You rather be, drivin your taxi than killed for the car

So drop me on the corner of Wilshire Boulevard»

I take him to the place he requested

I tell him thanks for the message, the cab shakes when he exits

I pull off Hypnotized then hear shots

And then my engine die soon as they kill Hop

What’s on your mind?

Who’s in your back seat?

Do you go off your own thoughts?

Are you even drivin your own car?

I know what you thinkin, «This nigga sayin Hip Hop is dead»

Don’t take song like I’m sayin we lost Hip Hop, take it like I lost my mind

I’m the taxi driver

Ridin around with me and my thoughts

In the back seat behind me speakin

To me while I’m drivin, I’m hearin 'em talk

To me sayin' where they wanna go

Soon as they get in and they close the door

And then I cruise to wherever we ridin'

Wherever you can imagine from coast to coast