BBS lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
This that gold BBS flow
Plastic Nike Air tags on your original 4s
Niggas done z'd on ya mans and I'm rollin a O
Leave 'em sleep, I don't need them suckers listening to me
Pack the bong full with everything except the kitchen sink
Underneath which I keep a set of Andis clippers
I can fix my lining up 'fore we go over by them bitches
A quick little something, can't get the back
I don't know where I left my hand mirror
Type of dilemmas I'll never hinder my jet living
We just chillin so don't come around here, fake-toughing
Running off the women, bossed up, all us
Outside the club waiting to tip drivers who pull our cars up
The fuck you thought this was, dawg
I'm a trill muthafucka after all
Haters is dressed as safety nets encouraging my fall
Won't catch me there but you can catch me on air, when my new shit premier
At whatever media outlet decides to play it fair
Fuck playing dead, pimpin', I'mma play the bear
Grizzly, seriously, Fishburne turn, flip styles furiously
This that 70s' Soul Green, Al chemistry
Ay mane, been a G since Buddy Lees
Lames be cuffin they jeans, and they bitches
I be cooking these bird ass hoes, running circles round em
They rotisserie chickens, love gotta shovel in her hand
I see you diggin, strike gold, build yo own coffin with it; dead ass
Flick ashes on the girls in my past tense
The telly's for the ones I was just fucking
The crib's for the one I was gon' get right back with
Its easy to get tangled in the stars; spangled
Mangled in the night life, living out my bars; dangerous
Yeah
The Type lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Prodigy of Mobb Deep)
[Curren$y:]
Yeah
Fool
Yeah, yeah
Jet Life
Yeah
Not yet, yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Yeah
Ugh!
Let the lil' homie kick it in the auto shop with us
Long as he can make store runs and keep his mouth shut—
Same way I came up
All my triple-O's was hood famous
Nice guy surrounded by wolves, wild dangerous
That's where I gained this cool
Walk this talk, you trying to duplicate and make twos
All you do is make fools of yourselves
Underground jewels, Chester Copperpot, waddling in the wishing well
Evidence niggas done failed trying to get close to the Jet code
But it will never be deciphered by a rookie pilot
That's why I sit opposite the driver, '63 Impala
Bad bitch, chain steering wheel, guidance
I'm out the window sky-watching
Plotting, as usual—that's what I'm doing when I quiet
Can't remember shorty name, but she had that loud pack
That other night in Tallahassee, and I thank her for that
Fine, freaky, sending snaps with her legs behind her back
In the wee hours of the morning, picture-mailing that she horny
But love, I'm tryna fuck with this money
Yeah
Get this money
Jet Life, I'm tryna get this money
Ugh
[Curren$y (Prodigy):]
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals (Uh-huh)
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats (Ugh)
We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up (Uh-uh)
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals
That don't bury the axe (Yeah)
Say what, say what?
We the type of people that don't bury the
(We bust raps like B-boys bust gats)
We the type of people that don't bury the
(We bust raps like B-boys bust gats)
We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold that (Yeah)
Like B-boys bust gats
(Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals)
We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up (Ugh)
(Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals, we the type of people that don't)
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals
[Prodigy:]
(Yeah that's what I'm talking 'bout)
Ayo, Curren$y, let me hold it down real quick, son
(That's right, yeah, that's right)
Ayo, Al, check this out right here, man
Like this (Pour me a cup, pour me another cup, son)
(You never heard no shit like this before, man)
I said
We bust raps like we bust these gats
We're the type of people that don't bury the hatch (Hold up)
We bust raps like we bust these gats (Pow)
We the type of people, Chevys and GMCs, too
We bust raps like we bust these gats (Right now)
We the type of people that don't bury the hatch', hold up (My nigga)
We bust raps like we bust these Gats (You gotta go in right now)
We're the type of people Chevies and GMC's (Get these niggas, son, get these niggas)
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh
Fuck it, it's the life of a shooting star, gotta move smart
Can't get caught slipping, they all wanna see me fall
Take my punches like a trooper, take my losses like a man
It come with the territory: Take the good with the bad
Throw the dice, watch them tumble, where they land—so be it
E'erything is not strategic; sometimes we risk our life
Sometimes we risk our love, our money, and our freedom
That bullshit, we feed it, to see if you gonna eat it
In New York, we manipulate naïve dummies
We beat you on the head, it's just game we be running sometime
But most of the time, we don't play
They can't figure us out—we like it that way (We like it that way)
The road to the riches so long our feet catch blisters
All these crabs in the bucket, pull you down tryna get up
Every man for theyself, every woman want bags and shoes
We the type of people that'll find you
Yeah, know that
Stop fronting, you doing a lot of fronting right now
You know what I'm saying?
Make me come to your fucking crib, nigga
Right at your doosrtep, like, "Good morning!"
[Curren$y:]
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up
We bust raps like B-boys bust gats
We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals
[Prodigy:]
We bust raps like we bust these gats
We the type of people that don't bury the hatch (Hold up)
We bust raps like we bust these gats
We the type of people, Chevys and GMCs, too
Blood Sweat And Gears lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Fiend)
[Curren$y:]
Fuck around and lay around
Yeah
I'm talkin' to you, you, and you too
You guys know who I'm talkin' to
Those—
Yeah
I'm talkin' to—
Take this opportunity to roll up
Get your grinders
Yeah, yeah
Fuck around and lay around
Locate your lighters
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Let me tell you something
Uh
Laced David Robinson's, Wally moccasins
Matte black paint, polished rims
The fuck you said? I ain't hear it clear
Too much money talking in my ear
The end result of two albums in one year
Blood, sweat, and gears, life in between the racing strips
We break day every night
Alternative lifestyle, I ain't looking for a pussy, boy
This trill jet shit, just enjoy
That's yo wifey but she's still a Jet miss (Fuck around and lay around)
Give her directions to the telly and a checklist
Arriving shortly with the items I requested (I'm talkin' to you, you, and you too)
Reinforced the frame with that jive nigga repellant (You guys know who I'm talkin' to)
My new plane, maintain the smoke
Let you take a couple grams home if you my folk
Eyeball you a lil' something, I ain't the weed man though
But if you give me fifteen minutes, I'll call my folks, he'll be at the door
Connectin' four marine batteries on one side of the trunk
To go with them other four batteries that's powering the pumps (Fuck around and lay around)
It's the juice in them cylinders that make the Chevy jump
You already know, I ain't gotta tell you 'bout it, partner
Your bitch stay talkin' and you steady eavesdroppin' (Let me tell you something)
[Fiend:]
Rolling trees [?] do something for you
No matter what you be goin' through
Uh, ayy
Execution flow, ten thousand grams of potassium
Streets, I roam, mama praying like the Vatican
My life feels like treadin' water in the ocean, who's panickin'?
I'm dope, sudden move is drug traffickin' (Fuck around and lay around)
Tell I'm gettin' dough, I'm getting fat again
What I'd do to hear my loved ones laugh again
Say, love, go and give me your math again
Got a movie later on you'll be actin' in (Let me tell you something)
Life is like free throws, some things you gon' miss, some things you make
Don't rush, don't wait
I call pape' time travel machine
It can get you there faster, but it can't wake a permanent sleep
I'd never compromise my fresh
Smoke kush, not sess
Why cry? I'm blessed
I'll lend you the bail out
The ones I call my Tank Dogs in the jail house
Jets smoking in the club on tour (Fuck around and lay around)
Born in New Orleans, all new friends, bonjour
I'm je m'appelle International Jones
And Louis scarf down the west smoking one with the homies
Walls full of vinyl, all bars are final
Life of Richie Rich, first name not Lionel
International Jones
Curren$y the Spitta
Alchemist my nigga
Italian life, go figure (Fuck around and lay around)
Life Instructions lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Smoke Dza)
[Curren$y:]
Yeah
Real life situations
Real events in Jet Life
Berner say he got some shit gon' get a nigga eighth grade high
We in LA
Shit, already, we rollin' up right now
Alc' in here just chillin'
Uh
Patty cake, patty cake, I'm baked, my man
Kick it on your street like bad Chris and them garbage cans
Aw, man, them bitches think I'm balling
So they behaving differently when I be in New Orleans
I'm falling back off 'em, they crawling back on him
Not half way complaining, just making a true statement
Which quite basically is what's missing from this game we in
Create the world in which you trying to live in, kid
Some of my friends is passed away, some of my homies doing bids
But best believe I bring 'em with me anywhere I is
What a hater say'll never affect the way that I live
Or where I go, just make me fuck they bitches in they crib (Uh)
The game I got was raw and given to him by Slim
Referring to himself in the third when he on them herbs
Make sure I don't park out in the street, but don't get too close to the curb
Jet Life too high for them birds
Ayo
[Smoke DZA:]
Yeah
Uh
Right
Big doobies rolled up, you know how we do
Snow Beach 'Lo like Rae wore in '92
Rugbies all flavors, lime green Rod Lavers
Touring the world, getting paid off the talent God gave us
I'm parlaying, Marley's got me smacked
Twistin' like a Rastafari Marcus Garvey on the track and I'm faded
Niggas hated, now they all trying to get in
All the slick talk, I know you ain't really mean it
Sleeping on the kid, I hoped the bed was Posturepedic
Begging for a verse, I'm like, "Cocksucker, beat it"
What's your budget like? Go 'head and find a way
You trying to get in the loop, I make 'em pay to ride the wave
Jet Life, it sucks to be you
Trying to get swag, you gotta purchase this cool
Right
Out
What up, Spitta?
Smoke Break lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?
Well, how many people in the house tonight smoking on some of that light green chronic?
Chillin', inhalin' chronic smoke
Can we get a moment of silence—
Chillin'
Well, how many people in the house tonight—
You should be rollin' up by now
Yeah
Locate your lighters
Prime time
It's mister go left on a bitch who can't find her right mind
I'm squeakin' past a yellow light doin' sixty-five
Hope that wasn't one of them camera joints, traffic eyes in the sky
I'm kind of high, but you dumb twisted
I'm used to that killer shit, so I maintain my pimpin'
While you over-highed and slizzered
And I'm laughin' at you slippin'
And your bitch feelin' disgusted and miserable
She like, why she even here with you?
I'm puttin' air in my inner tubes
Black mags on my Haro hangin' from the wall
The allure of my home decor got these girls trippin'
And frequently speakin' of return visits
A time machine, my lyrics
And the same thing for my garage, dog, did you see what I just put in it?
We tryna compete with them NASCARs, you noticin'
And the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
This Jet Life ain't for everybody, this shit is reserved for us
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
The style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
Ayo
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?
This Jet Life ain't for everybody, this shit is reserved for us
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
Jet Life, Jet Life
See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up
Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?
See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up
Yeah
Scottie Pippen lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Freddie Gibbs)
[Curren$y:]
Yeah
Yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Go get your lighters
Showin' no signs of letting up
Still kick you in the head like I think you on the verge of gettin' up
No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra Commander
Deadly venom-spitting, niggas just a salamander
I'm living a life worthy of capturing on camera, documented
How one of the last live ones did it
How I rolled up in the drop, how I rolled up that sticky
How I rolled with them women, elegant player, no simpin'
How I fucked 'em to sleep
How I rolled up out the building when I was finished, keep it G
Them niggas not original, they muh'fuckin' House of Mirrors
Not quite the image
I'm on that Popeye spinach, Mama mai-tai sippin'
She loves a square nigga, but now she trying something different
Windy City Bulls, Mitchell & Ness wool jackets, some sweats and Scottie Pippens
My description, high off that fuzzy, green prescription
Lyin' if I sayin' that I isn't; if you lookin' for that nigga, I is him
All eyes in this direction, a burden and a blessing
[Curren$y (Freddie Gibbs):]
Yeah, yeah
(Ugh)
(For sure)
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
[Freddie Gibbs:]
Ugh, reporting live from the Devil's palace (Yeah)
Breakfast, had two titties, two blunts and a turkey-bacon sandwich (Yuh)
Two seasoned eggs and grape jelly, my hoes stay ready (Ugh)
Pop that pussy then pulled off in my Pontiac on Pirellis
'82 edition, spotless Bonnie squattin' on sixes (Ugh)
Rather be countin' stacks than stuck in the county, washin' the dishes (Nah)
Or washing drawers in the pen; got two zones of soft and some Hen'
I had go pay the correct correctional officer to walk 'em in
Bail money on deck, come at my neck (Yeah)
Bless that boy 'cause that same place him test is where he slept
I issue eternal rest, sign up and be a subscriber (Yeah)
The price of life got so high that I must make sure I stay higher
Stay with the purp out of pee-zo, stay smackin' these geekers' needles
Stay runnin' the rock just like I play quarterback for the Eagles
Randall, Donovan, or Michael, 'fore I picked up this mic
I was hittin' licks with some Lords and did dirt with plenty Disciples
I'm gangbang affiliated (Ugh), federal-investigated, self-educated
All my co-conspirators catchin' cases (Yeah)
I dropped straight out of college, and I majored in home invasion
Believe, I got the balls to clear up all of my altercations
Leave faces with alterations, the closed-casket console (Yeah)
Tryna make a million dollars, fuck a million downloads
But if that equal the same, then slice that up and give me my change
I made a lane up in this game so niggas got' remember the name:
Gangsta Gibbs, ho! Two bitches cooking in the crib, ho (Yeah)
Still push a bucket, but I ride it like a Benz, ho (Yeah)
Tryna find a bridge ho, to slangin' raps, from slangin' weight (Ugh)
Said that Fred the new-age Brad, bitch, call me Baby Face Killa
Ugh, ugh
Ventilation lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
White carpet in my Scarface house
No undergarments on my Scarface spouse
My Elvira twisting that reefer and delivering that dough
To the front door like a pizza carryin
Her own weight financially, she don't need me
She just in love with a real nigga, continuously weeded
At my undisclosed __cpLocation
[?] reading up on V-12 engines
And the greatest strains this season
And I grind for that very reason
The toxic air that I'm breathing leave the average man weakened
Watermarks still on the houses as I drive by em
Crack the sunroof, let a cloud out it, trill shit
Next time I vacate, I'm bringing all my cars on the plane with me
We gon' show our folks how to make them millions
Grappling hooks, scaling the building
Rap with no hooks, I'm high how is you feelin
Captain Hook whilin' and sailin'
Though no stealin'
That shit hurt, I know the feeling
These niggas'll borrow your style like
You wasn't about to do nothing with it
That's why I only kick it with real niggas like Dom Kennedy
And people I ain't got to name 'cause they was probably here
Getting high with me
If y'all don't know where to put it at, then don't ride with it
'Cause they'll try to lose you in the system for some weed in my city
In the hood, ain't no love or no pity
Looking for charity? That dog don't hunt, don't come in the woods with it
Double 07 lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
Looking for someone down the line
But no one will be there to see it through
Fuck all y'all
Yeah
Lames catch feelings
We catch flights
Fool
Yeah
You should be rollin' up by now
Locate your lighters
Yeah
Shelter from the rain in a parked car, chopping game, modifying my slangs
Fog lights in the grill, in Negril whippin' the '96 Range
It's insane how fast they let you drive in them narrow lanes
My independence remain
'Cause I ain't working for the radio station like Martin Payne
I grind and maintain my peace of mind
Almost lost it once on the line
But see that I found it just in time
A mercenary killer
Paid for bringin' debt to these whack niggas
You call them raps, that's why them labels never called you back
Pimpin', yeah, jack, Spitta snap
Long flight, turbulence bad
Baggage claim tags
Car service rolling grass
007, but I ain't talking agents
Two ounces and seven grams, my nigga, we still blazing
You uneasy in my presence, dumb questions, dumber statements
I'm on a whole 'nother level, roof terrace, you the basement
Couldn't gain possession, them haters couldn't take it
Can't see me 'less you sleeping, nigga, Freddy vs. Jason
Snoozing on a jet movement, your worst nightmare in the making
Yeah, yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, yeah
Success Is My Cologne lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
Yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life
You should be rollin' up by now
Locate your lighters
Uh
Knowing I'ma look cool in them black and white pictures when they talk about
Underground rappers getting high and making history
I'm sick and tired of these niggas claiming that they as sick as me
They lying, I checked your chart, your file saying you soft
Something fishy, ho nigga, you more bass then boss
Off the boat, small fries and stowaways get tossed
Can't party on the shore with us, fool
Get your floaties up, kiddy pool, niggas ain't really that cool
Can't follow these moves, you need more expensive shoes
Working out, smoking strong on a week long cruise
Bonfire with these bitches, singing songs to the moon
Too high to judge
Call my ex bitch who did that foul shit, fuck her brains out, and settle the grudge
Back shot revenge style, ain't no love
Light grub, roll up after a quick scrub
Cover my tracks, don't let my bitch know where I was
Sticking to the script, though I'm improvising a bit
Same as my OGs, but I put the Jets in the mix
Classic like Eddie Murphy's SNL skits
Deadstock, tissue in the box, elephant print
On my Flint 13s, no retro, 3M reflective
Your bitch type reckless in my DM's
Sexting, trying to see him
Smoke a J where he being
But I've got no time for company
I'm building one of them, honey
I know that's why you want me
Success is my cologne, I spray that bottle all on me
Yeah
Full Metal lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist
You should be rollin' up by now
Locate your lighters
Brother hasn't been dead for long
Look, there's still some color in his face
His soul is probably still at the gate
I just have to pull it back
The same way he did
Uh
I call my brother Sun 'cause he shine like
Noon time, Alaska on the turnpike
Maneuvering mind, GT5, my nerves is ice
And I wouldn't change none of it in hindsight, believe this
'Cause if I wouldn't have been that, then I wouldn't be this
Inspiration for niggas who out there chasing that paper
Walkin' the walk and runnin' over them haters
Outline it in chalk, that conversation is deaded
'Cause I'm living for the loot and you wasn't talkin' no bread, bitch (I just have to pull it back)
Cake all layer-ish, player all Himalay-erish, got the 420 vision
Rollin' doobies up, rollin' doobies up, up in the incision
Moroccan furnishings, projection screen built in my ceiling
I spit the picture so vivid because I'm really living
This Jet Life, tennis shoes and tuxedos
Them other fools ain't fly, they fuckin' mosquitoes
Don't work, they just cry and whine (I just have to pull it back)
Fuckin' pinot grigio, you need to get on your grind (The same way he did for me)
Stack a stack of dead people that done done some presidential time
For that cash, I brung a claim tag, this is mine
Fuck you doin' with that dough?
AZ holdin' the baby, peepin' the whole scene, I'm 'bout to blow
You know?
I just have to pull it back
Daze Of Thunder lyrics - Curren$y
I'm in that '77 Glasshouse, Kelly greenin'
Rims wit da nice lips, Angelina's
Jolie, roll me another sticky steamer
Got them bitches pressed like I brung them to the cleaners
Fool don't lie, you ain't never seen him in person
You just heard about them tracks he be murking
'Bout them hoes I be working
Light one up for the pimp
Got a yellow bone bitch rolling weed, serving grits
You know curly head Amanda, ain't she from Atlanta
Condo on Peachtree, roommate named Pamela
In love with her body
Girl, don't sweat them little love handles
That's where I put my hands at
When I snatch you up to ram you
Ask your BFF about what happened when she passed through
Baffled by the castle, mind unraveled
Say the smoke was amazing and the bed, life magical
Fuck your homegirl good and let that news get back to you
Now it's like you have to too, curiosity
Sprung that pussycat to the house with me and I killed it
Suckers hate the jet life because they not allowed to live it
Fool I'm dead serial, killer fucking serious
Nigga this is personal, you can't get no whiff of this
I rolled this shit myself and I'm a smoke it 'til the end of it
I burn it half way down and put a clip behind my ear, you bitch
Either way a square ain't saying he got high with me today
Frito-Lay chip motorcycle coppers trying see
What exit I take off the interstate so they could follow
But I ain't tripping, I got it like money in my pocket
And a clip next to my license that confirm that I'm a pilot
I'm stumbling across da red carpet, laughing, spilling bottles
You stuck in your hotel suite, waiting on you stylist
You can't get dressed without him, because you got no inner fly-dom
Showed up like "Where the hoes at?"
Fool, they all at my room
Ad-miring that ass
I'm a smoke to that before I tell you to get in the bed and arch your back
Smooth raps served chill, musical Cognac
Audio dope, surround sound, crack, all that
The sun roof top in a diamond
Though not on a Cadillac, because I'm a Chevy driver
I been all over the map, my home at the bottom
Winter hot like summer, big chrome, skinny rubber
Rust bucket, I spent 1500 on that motherfucker
Another 30 racks restoring that motherfucker
40 say "You got a bad bitch, better tuck her," like Chris
Bay love bumping Mac Dre on the way to get some paper
Haters is mad we get high and get rich, ain't slowing down for nothing
George Kush the button
Like "What do this do, fuck it, here goes nothing."
Your man's is something, else
Class by himself, high, off radar, stealth
For the love of the jets, until it's nothing left
You ain't got no gas, go over there and siphon some of theirs
Game cold, Frigidaire, though it's fair
No choice for us to play, so you might as well win, mane
They say it ain't everything, but that's that loser talk
So ask them, mane
Rain Delay lyrics - Curren$y
Dedicated to the Winners and the Losers
To the night De-bo got knocked fuck out
N Red got back his beach cruiser
I'm jet livin for the day to make em pay
This revenge served cold on a doobie ashtray
My eyes and my windows open halfway
I'm livin in a matinee early
See me tho fashionably late and you nervous
Mad outta place
You pretendin to be comfortable it's showin on yo face
And them niggas that you think holdin you down jus lookin for cake
And they'll accept from whoever got a slice on they plate
Fall in like rain
Befriended and betrayed
All in all viciously bitten by niggas u was jus callin yo dogs
And it was all good jus a week ago
Chillin by dem freaky hoes, feet kicked up
When you shoulda been on yo toes
Stay high
Kill em with the flow
These new, fresha than yo easter clothers
I ain't trippin off nann nigga to each his own
So ignore my grass tend to ya own home homes
Might pick my hair til it's Puffy, no Combs
Fuckin bitches that won't let u make it out the friend zone
Ice Water, Tall Glasses take it in
It goes down like nails if you frail
Jet fuel
Labortory reported it burned thru the test tube
Tearin thru yo rag toproof while u at the drive thru waitin on that slow ass fast food
Alan from the sky foo
8:50
Bird shit on the windshield hit the wipers
Mother natures cryin
Harmonizin
Homicide ridin on these tracks
Think when DoeBoy caught the fools who killed Ricky
Them niggas was lunchin
Slippin
Monsta told DoeBoy "Cut the lights nigga! "
My watch is on grind time word to mic Bigga
This here is a digital track
(W) rap on these bitches
On computers like laptop stickas
Light pressure on these suckas means it's drizzlin
Feelin like pennies fallin from the roof of the empire state buildin
High velocity
I'm high off broccoli
In Cali with a license, got plants on property
Watchin me
Tryna copy me
Showin my pics to yo stylists like "Buy this outfit for me"
But the clothes don't make the man, a man made them pants
His flight leave at 8 and at 9 my plane land
Ain't that grand?
I got pounds of weed and a plan
To let you suckas kno who the mutha fuckin...
Ah man
Bad weather
And that shelter won't help ya
Sink, swim or swelter
Temperature risin, so is the water level
Where is u niggas hidin
On.. lyrics - Curren$y
Spit that clean shit
Hand sanitizer my saliva
Niggas thinking they bitches in the blind
But she got her on mind to follow
Decision easily made, one of these don't belong
Me and four lames on the same page
Alco fresh out the paint shop
Polo green krsipy kreme glazed clear coated
8 times over high roller stoned rolling half way home
Until I realized I left my phone by this shone
I was just boning
Slipping on my pimping gotta get back to her crib before she realize what I did
And go to finger picking
Trying contact my other women
Shit them hoes do when they feel like they entitled to position
That's why I play them close but from a distance
If you can dig it
Damn near in love with all them hoes when I'm with'em
But once I put on my clothes, spray my cologne
Darted for the front door
Jet life jet wise respect I got to go
I'm on hustle like a mole
On hustle like it's dope
On hustle like it's coke
I'm on hustle like a mole
On hustle like it's dope
On hustle like it's coke
Nigga... yea
Trophy Case lyrics - Curren$y
(You are watching a master at work)
Put the cheat code in, I brung my homie back to the game
I done that, I'll sign for the blame
Name on the side of the plane Jets Fool dot dot dot
Which ensues the reign will be continued
Flight Club from the display case we cop gym shoes
Living as any other grown kid would do
Remembering being 10, looking at OGs roll down the street wishing I was them
I super-ceded it, previous genius they see Spitta they tip they brims
My role perfected, my money invested, interest collectin'
My collection of Chevrolets doubled
502 big block, anabolic steroid
That's motor car muscle, its running word to mother
Running like the little man on my Play Cloths duffle
King of the jungle, bear with us you niggas is Snuggle
Yeah, til the next life
Jet Life, Jet Life, yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life
The Return to the Winner's Circle, fool
Empire Monopoly lyrics - Curren$y
Watchin boardwalk empire feelin inspired you can take it all over if you just tried it
So I tried it liked it got addicted to the square footages and home insurances
Best way to get to it is the self way do it for thou like what better time then right now
Bendin corners on these blocks makin my rounds. Highed up. Baby girl love the way that I get down
This dat headband got a nigga royally high scratch headband we gone have to call this a crown
Paint water wet on the chevy might drown so fresh it almost wasn't ready
When you get yo shot make sure you aim steady
'Cause suckas gunnin fa yo spot the jack boys drew a bullseye on yo drop and you was still on da car lot
Them niggas ain't givin a fuck young killas ain't rememberin ya or respectin what you done in them streets
They just focused on themselves comin up some pimpin gorillas some chimps some chumps
Monkey shit in occasions those not actin they ages got the story first hand from my incarcerated scarfaces speakin in coded language on visitation
In no form am I a criminal but never was sure what my friends was gettin into
DVD title menu on the flat for 4 hours because fell asleep beneath the sour
In the crib yo bitch want me to take her like a shower
No one man should have all dat
Frost lyrics - Curren$y
Jet Life, that's all, playa
Fresh weed in a glass jar, playa
Not the body, Vampire Slayer
Pull up strains like the guitar player
John Mayer, body shaking, body snatcher
Undertaker, come pick the track up, cause this was a massacre
Spitta done beat the beat right side, left, and everywhere but backwards
Holy mackerel, I'm low in the Malibu two-door, listening to Dizzee Rascal
Right up your avenue, fly as a parachute, high as a paratroop-er
Before he deployed
You ain't a D-boy, you's a fuckin' decoy
You ain't Bruce Lee, nor Bruce Leroy
Can't kick it, Bruce Bruce, you's a comedy, boy, yeah
My mission here is to destroy the wackness
On all facets, from all factions
Fools are all papers, you suckerish ashin's
Cash out, nigga, that casino magic
My girl from Cincinnati, my weed from Cali
Feel the blitz, like the O-line was happening
High Times, evergreen pine, we snappin' trees in half, and use that to make hash with
Habit of having my paper straight
Holding it down, I'm a paperweight
Knock-off baller, your paper fake
You fallin' off, and I'm home plate safe
How else can I call it than how I see it?
Can't say your name, cause I ain't see ya
Flow cold, inside door of the freezer
Fo' hoes chose, but I'm in a two-seater
Follow in a cab, or I'll catch you next weekend
Either way, baby girl, a nigga ain't trippin'
Pleading, please, I'm peeling off
Now you realize you was dealing with a boss
Never took the ride, but you took the loss
Got your friend in my drive with the top taken off
At the crib, her top get taken off
And she can share the details when she wakes tomorrow
Yeahh
Record Deals lyrics - Curren$y
They be on tables like poker chips
Dangled in front you by suits who assume you to be a two-bit hustler
Hasty moves
From the cradle to the grave might be a short walk, real talk
It's just a matter of ink
So many people in your ear you can't hear yourself think
Your homies like do that shit
Your old heads say you need to let somebody read through that shit
Call up a lawyer, but an arm and a leg it cost ya just to walk through the office
Consultation charges, end up taking bigger bites than your portion
And you was just online looking at Porsches
Now you're feeling tight hot garbage, cus your check being garnished
No cool gray area about it, executives is black hearted
They could care less about repossessions, disconnected cell phones
Or evictions from apartments
It's no country for artists
Trap floor under the carpet, figured you'll fall for it
Cus you're struggling and you're starving, that don't mean you're stupid
Reverse the game, pull the rug from them losers, carve your own lane
Stay true to your music
I'm watching myself do it
I saw somebody else get close to it
But you know how it is, the good die young mostly over bullshit
Record deals
Record deals, record deals
Record deals, record deals
Record deals, record deals
Record deals, record deals
Record deals, record deals
Record deals, record deals
Moon & Stars Remix lyrics - Curren$y
So I ride, I lean, I crawl
Do it better than them all
Let the road be my guide
As I glide in candy cars
Underneath the moon and the stars
[Big KRIT:]
Yeah, yo, my digital dash, as I mash on the gas
Don't know where I'm going fast, but I'm going there
Stop at the club, forever sure there's some hoes in there
Shaking they ass, looking for players with dough to share, but that ain't me though
Before I trick on a bust-it baby, I'm outta the do'
If you are looking for saving shawty, I'm not your hero
More like a guide
I can take you where you want, would you look in my eye?
Like you supposed to, cold enough to froze ya
Talking bout that pimping you already been exposed to
Far from being sober, let's travel into space while
Puffing on this Yoda, glowing like a lightsaber
Doing what the grownups do
Be grateful that this game was bestowed upon to you
Cause backstabbing betrayers divide, don't listen to
Cause they front, but they don't, do what I do
Cause they will never ever be pimps
So I ride, I lean, I crawl
Do it better than them all
Let the road be my guide
As I glide in candy cars
Underneath the moon and the stars
[Killa Kyleon:]
Laid back on that butterscotch
Got my paint lookin' peppermint
Pull up pacin on pokers, puffin' that purple it's evident
Smell the scent I can see the moon and the stars in my evidence
Louie V don't see haters no focus cuz they irrelevant
Comin' thru like the president/Wave at my boppers n droppers
I let my trunk do the jump n they flag us down n they stop us
Flock us like waka. Like tv shows they watch us. you see these hoes?
Mesmerized like khalifa Pulled up in a slab do you see these fours
This ain't no Taaka, this purple drink. Do you see me pour?
And my cup got them double stacks like that X/do u see me roll?
Paint wet like it's aroused,So high i can kiss the clouds
I roll up them sour flowers and smoke till I'm lookin Yao
I'm stuck on this country shit I'm southern just like the college
Neck bones, cornbread, candy yams, and my greens collard
Crawlin just like a toddler pradas pushin them pedals down
Jackers keep me in magneto mode, I keep that medal 'round
So I ride, I lean, I crawl
Do it better than them all
Let the road be my guide
As I glide in candy cars
Underneath the moon and the stars
[Curren$y:]
I be obliged if you stepped outside
Smokin' that bum ass shit bitch
You get no play in this ride
Butta' soft high
They built many 'vettes after mine but I think they did it best in '89
Idlin' at the red light mindin' my business
Holdin' my weed low with a slight crack in my windows
Playin' all three of my mirrors
I ain't nervous
But I'm certain that them devils tryin' to get me
Cause I'm swervin' banging curbs
And they can't stand to see me with it
But it don't stop just provoke me
More to drop my top
Now be planetarium status
Flickin' ashes in the big dippa'
You ain't as high as me mista
Eye screwin' your sista' from a fifty foot distance
Now she missin' caught up in a twista', Tropicana
Pour me up a glass of tang
Roll up some of that NASA, mane
So I ride, I lean, I crawl
Do it better than them all
Let the road be my guide
As I glide in candy cars
Underneath the moon and the stars
Role Model lyrics - Curren$y
Uh
Nothing but
Tell the truth, do I?
I've been in the game, OG
Seen fools blow up and blow it, you know it
Prophetized by the perpetually high poet
I've been through it so free game I got to throw it to the listeners
Gifted in the art of deciphering rhymes
Conjured up in the confines of a powerful mind
Between the cars and broads, you're sure to find
The story of a man who drew his own guidelines
Inspirational, ain't it?
The way shorty set his goals tall and attained'em
Professional brushstrokes on canvasses
Finger-painting amateurs, can't handle it you do best to stay in your pajamas, kid
Blew my high when you came in with them cameras
Questions and peanuts, galleries and suggestions
I hear some drummers comin' from your section, that's cool
But we got our own beat to walk to, fool!
Uh, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle
Tell the truth, do I look like a role model?
To the kid that chose me to follow
Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas
Uh, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle
Now tell the truth, do I look like a role model?
To the kid that chose me to follow
Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas
Nigga! Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas, yea
Lyin' ass bitches, thievin' ass partners
To the kid that chose me to follow
Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas
Thievin' ass bitches, lyin' ass partners... yea
Paydayss lyrics - Curren$y
Another day's dollar, holla if you hear me
Chillin' by one of my baddest bitch's older sisters
You know how them hoes be pretendin'
That they so close and kindred to that jet pimpin', give them all that 4/20 vision
One spoke up on my stroke and the other one got defensive
They both figurin' out they both getting dicked down, kill em with my old schools
Bitch you car sick, huh? Chevy man see me in that Corsica
Or a GT Berreta, nigga low as fuck
If I'm not on tour Pimpin', I ain't doing much
Except rolling up, building scale model low rider trucks
In my Jet Study where I keep my books
Pilot Loft, each entry, each verse, each hook
About the shit I really saw and the chances I really took
Cars I really drove, women that really chose
No Phantom over here Pimpin', Cinnamon on my rolls
Breakfast, first-class flight from New Orleans to Houston Texas
Flight time 45 minutes 37 seconds
Wheels up to wheels down last time I checked it for the record
Flow deadly and alot of niggas respect it on a daily
Creating these speaker blessings
At the car wash, they finishin' my tire dressing
I'm on the conference call discussin' how my merch selling
Loot in coming for all directions
You want to mention 'no hustlers', but never play the cut with us
I got my numbers up, countin' in the sky
Burning doobies in the coupe, D.W. high
Jets @ Your Neck lyrics - Curren$y
Jet life jet life jet life jet life
[Curren$y:]
Yeah, G'r then youv'e ever been and everywhere you never went
A decorated veteran
My bitches keep it very trill say they swagga jackin daddy
I say fuck it baby girl we gon' let him live
Too much money not enough time to get it and want power before they drop the ball
Brand new socks and long jon draws I want it all
My young nigga told y'all it's getting cold out here dog
Bundle up motherfuck being the runner-up
4 niggas deep though number one is us
Text homie and tell him his number's up
You services are no longer needed
Rocka bye baby word to Kesha
Broad day jets and monsta beats kill niggas on tape
Many a track has met his fate at the hands of Spitta Andretti
Them niggas is half way shook and all the way not ready
And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking
Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me
I done it how my triple O showed me
Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me
The climb was lonely
Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet
2
Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool
[Trademark da Skydiver:]
Sharvees on my feet
Cacky LRG jets fitted trees sticky
Just riding around the city smoking O's like fifties
Mind on a milli
Eyes on a rearview cause these haters out to get me
Fuck 'em, I just duck 'em like the bitch that was just with me
Simply I'm on a level where these lames can't gain no entry
Yeah, I stay high I dont fly on empty
Fill my lungs up with blueberry sour and piffy
Life of a jet bad bitches and good weed
Fast cars and glass jars of sour D's
Uhh TMSD the SV
Hover over land lovers like a G3
Jets nigga from the net to the TV
We came up quick and made this shit look easy
Yeah, now they go in cop my CDs
Put 'em in they deck and ride around with them on repeat
And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking
Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me
I done it how my triple O showed me
Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me
The climb was lonely
Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet
2
Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool
[Young Roddy:]
And it's jets over everything
I put that on everything
We been doing our thing anyway
Nigga slash anywhere
First let me twist this up I'mma tell my driver take me there
Secondly and back to back in and out I came prepared
Flashback dejavu coulda swore I saw this shit right here
Marley told me kill this shit just don't forget your niggas here
Bet I won't I done see blood sweat so many tears
Bet I blow
That's a fact point blank period
Break her off bust her up spread them legs up in the air
Slow it down and speed it up she tell me keep on drilling it
Show your right I keep it real
Something I'm familiar with
Money coming, money going
Man I keep on peeling it
DFA
My jet set camp
Cats I get my millis with
But really though what's really good
She know I been the shit
She smell me dog, she dig my style, gangsta and gentlemen
I'm good life, my jet insurance keep me with benefits
And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking
Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me
I done it how my triple O showed me
Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me
The climb was lonely
Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet
2
Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool
[Whizz:]
Street Whizzy money,hoes and Jet clothing
Blowing on that fruity pebble shit that have your throat chokin'
We ain't trippin' in this section full of cloud 9 floaters
It's a crush I'm up in my zone, and you already know this
See my grind, it's all up in my mind to come up with designs
That attack a nigga mental, now they keeping off my rhyme
It's finesse, it ain't nothing less cause I don't waste the time
Steady zippin' through the city money gettin' it I'm fly
If you look up in the air you will not see me I'm so high
Picture perfect when I glide it's like a nerf up in the sky
Twisting turning ya holdin position for my landing, acrobat
Blink a eye and miss a act, stacks up in the leather sack
Food Saver bag sealed up, that tropic winter pack
Jet and my perfection, but the method is to get it back
Bitches don't know how to act, they drooling on a nigga dick
Swagger out of space, all in the clique, you need a membership. YEAH
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