[ Featuring Mick Jenkins ]
I could see you from the drive-thru
Moving too fast
Ooh, yeah
Right where Broadway hits the railroad
Baby, don't crash
(What do you think about hitting Taco-?
It's like 2:30 AM
Oh, yeah, for sure, let's roll
Crunchwrap
Rucksack
This is not, this is (Dunlap)
You know, this is not an ad
It's just raw, it's just what we want
Yeah (OK)
Can I get, uh
Open late we always workin'
Ain't never closed curtains when you not on the stage
Might put you on the TV if you hot on the page
Now we getting new paper, baby, hot off the press
A traffic jam and it's like streets a rage, I know we blessed
More than burning this sage and more than burning incense
Morning breath when I tell them this truth
This how they react, it's clockwork
You start to tug at the roots
I mean, that's how Black thought work
They got you running in boots
You couldn't match with our speed
You couldn't match with our weed
You smell a sack through a purse
And somehow we still dissecting the bliss
No oven mitts, I hold heat like this shit never hurt
Cold pressed shit fresh to the taste, we open late
I got the opportunity but my mans holding the space
It ain't a race
(It ain't a race)
