Pick N Roll lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)
[Curren$y:]
2001 True Blues, some high end denim
Cost a lil grip, them motherfuckahs won't bleed on my shoes
Excuse me if I'm steppin on your image
Wake up and smell this pimpin
These bitches gettin dazed and confused
But I can show em where to get it
And what to do with it
I just gotta see how much I fuck with you
And if you deserve to live this
Jet Life shit you hear about in them songs when you be chillin
Smokin somethin strong for the long lost
Never got to see the boy grow up, become his own boss
It's all good though, I'm doin this for ya'll
In that Flying Spur bumpin that Soulja Slim, Give It 2 Em Raw
Rockin the fur and the white t-shirt, chinchilla with a lil hood on it
Hoes be wantin to feel on it, chill homie
She chose a G, nigga, with a bag of that Kill Bill on him
I swear this is like when
Birdie and them walked in the gym on Above the Rim
Bitches noticing
Rolex watch, bracelet, frozen limbs
They takin pictures we don't pose for them
[Young Roddy:]
Fuck the world, Fuck the world like Jimmy Two-Times
Props to my girls that act their age and not their shoe-size
I used to get it for the low without no coupon
The smallest nigga on the block, shawty doo-wop
Rule 1: never trust no bitch, get yo loot up
True dat, now they on my dick since I grew up
Hold on, shawty wanna bone since I blew up
I knew it, I been through hell but still I'm coolin
With no Nike deal, I do it, a beast in the paint like Pat Ewing
I coach em, I school em, they need it
I blaze a L for my nigga whooly, I see ya
I'm fresh in my adidas, I'm tryna duck the evils
I'm tryna dodge the reaper, I'm like who gon' buy this reefer?
I'm tryna make a killin on this road to the riches
Tryna make a profit, blow money in my closet
[Curren$y:]
I swear this is like when
Birdie and them walked in the gym on Above the Rim
Bitches noticing
Rolex watch, bracelet, frozen limbs
They takin pictures we don't pose for them
Can't Get Out lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)
[Curren$y:]
I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I never seen myself being a broke nigga
I'm never seen in the company of no ho niggas
One of the bosses that could send an order
But I get out of the car, do it on my own, nigga
Think when Frank White send the hit on Chinatown Larry
Jumped out of that black-on-black, rat-a-tated
The enemy's main bitch was the first one that he let have it
My brother always strapped, I don't like guns too much
But see, he love me to death so I guess that's why he bought me one
Them haters be watching you son
Don't trip, we be watchin' them
So they'll never get the drop
Top in the trunk, smelling like a skunk
Looking like one too, racing stripes
Looking like coke lines runnin' across my coupe
Way higher than you
Bitch on the phone tellin' you something that's not true
Jet Life always coming up
Looking like a million plus when I'm coming through
Yeah, yeah, life
I can't get in and I can't get out
I can't get out and I can't get in
La, la, la, la, la, la
[Young Roddy:]
Life
And they never know my next move, I leave them clueless
They praying that I fall off, they must be foolish
But the shit I'm talking about, I really do this
Truly, I'm a mad buddha abuser, my nigga
And I ain't talkin' 'bout no U-Haul, but I keep it moving
On my mission to the top, it's fuck them losers
No more Young Roddy, Young Ro the Ruler
Peep how I maneuver through this manure
I'm talking two hoes in my two door
But usually I ride solo
And this time I'm going for the gusto
In HD, I've seen niggas cut throat
And if you don't know, and if you must know
I drop my jewels like a klutz, though
But I'm still fly like I'm nuts, though
And the fast money still give me a rush, my nigga
And I still got the will to go and get it
In the streets, I'm a gorilla
Hustle hard from dawn to dusk, my nigga
Yella Cab lyrics - Curren$y
[Curren$y:]
When I wrote this I was floating
Envisioning myself on the interstate ridin' and obviously smoking
Luxury sedan with the moonroof open
Inspiration for little niggas to zoom in and get focused
These girls just wanna go zoomin' in that Porsche 924 Turbo
Got it from an auction, celebrity owner
Might have been Sylvester Stallone, you never know, bruh
At least that's what I'm gonna tell these hoes, bruh
Season 5, that's what I call my newest flow
These spiders have yet to successfully clone my Season 4
Shut my sliding door, lighters up, let's go
Then light another chronic TKO
I gonna send my down bitch to the store
You know what I like
When you get back, I have four rolled
Fo sho, ugh
Smoking a jernt in a yella cab
Leaving Saks 5th Ave, hella bags
Bitch hella bad
I'm a tell that driver to go hella fast
Back to the crib, fly as a helipad
Yeah, bitch yeah
Smoking a jernt in a yella cab
Leaving Saks 5th Ave, hella bags
Bitch hella bad
I'm a tell that driver to go hella fast
Back to the crib, fly as a helipad
Yeah, bitch yeah
Contacts lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Trademark Fiend)
[From the movie "Super Fly":]
"You want a blow? "
"Are you going to leave? "
"Yup... I got to make a pick-up"
"Will you be back soon? Are you coming back soon Priest?"
[Curren$y:]
Meeting of the Five families, brung a little jewelry through
Them niggas bring their hoes with em, they be staring at me
Baby that fool that you with don't compare him to me
We in the same business but them boys ain't up on they business
I'm a busy man and I own a couple businesses
Might could loan a business to my homie if he want it
But we all bosses and he got his own shit
Weed so strong you need a weight belt to hit it
I take that bitch mind like the hypnotist
Fuck her brains out she hit the mall and buy me shit
High as fuck, 'bout it, 'bout it
Brung her 'round some other girls, I got her tryin shit
The shy shell, she came right out of it
After we all came, I was counting again
Back at the money mountain, praying and plotting
On ways to get it all without them trying to stop it
No time for these bitches and they know that
Dollar signs in my eyes the money contacts
You could catch a contact high bitch how bomb am I?
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
[Trademark:]
You know how the game go, I be highed up up on the same ol'
Trademark AKA Flamingo
I still don't fuck with no lame hoes, make change when I change flows
Switch hoes like I change clothes, I got dough but I want more
Same youngin from the corner store, tryna get it on the low
Jet life to the next life, that's the only thing I'm living for
Money over bitches, that's all this young nigga know
Slamming coupe doors, rolling on them 24s
Outfit was four G's, but I ain't stuntin whore please
Nothing flyer than the SV this JLR
And my SB's read FB, say no more
I been hustling, got 200 racks in the floor
With a hundred more in the armoire past the corridor
I'm stackin, when it comes to racks I tell em pour it on
All I see is dollars, it's only thing I'm focused on
Only mils can save me, I done reached a point of no return
Life
No time for these bitches and they know that
Dollar signs in my eyes the money contacts
You could catch a contact high bitch how bomb am I?
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
[Fiend:]
Niggas strong like a hundred proof liquor, an onion is a zipper
Ask around town we the niggas, the nigga nigga
Motivated by money you know the streets be dummy
Bet nobody gon' run me, don't end the permanent gumby
Paper still rap from the mud 'cause we've been dug it up
Buttons still spin on these cars, oh we just crushing her
Latest of the latest, you in the presence of greatness
For pussy he got pages, me I'm usually one they chasing
Break bread like white Jesus, on methadone, she need this
It was pounds of weed before your features
Ballies on my feet for the night's that it was all for the cheese
Impala on D's, Harbor Mall spending G's
By any means Fiend sheesh
Tree look purpish, gold links Turkish
We ain't at the Dart girl, but this babe know how to twerk it
And that thing with her tongue, she could probably join the circus
Dice hand, super swag, can't bitches serve it
No time for these bitches and they know that
Dollar signs in my eyes the money contacts
You could catch a contact high bitch how bomb am I?
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
Light the weed hit the music this how them G's ride ..JET LIFE
Money Machine Part 2 lyrics - Curren$y
[From the "Super Fly" movie:]
"Fat Freddie man..."
"What's the matter with the fat man?"
"The dude ain't got your money...
He's been all stretched out, like he's come in some money or somethin"
"That's his ass"
"He's good for it. It's that bitch of his that's the problem"
"I got 50 men out on the street
Now if they all get bitch troubles I starve
Is that it, is that what you're telling me dude?"
Money machine, yeah
Do you even what the money machine sound like?
Money machine, haha, yeh,.. nigga, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
On, on, break of dawn
Can't stop nigga too hot early morn
I'm at the rim shop, fool, I really be on, my Chip Foose shit
Sketch it out and put it together, I really do this
Driving gloves Louis Vuitton, my shoes is
Glued to the pedal, press to the metal, I'm moving
Jets in the house bitch, you ain't help us move in
So why you got your hands out now stupid
Had you played your role
You would have got your credit at the end of the movie
Listening to them hoes, you on Front Street
Swimming in blood soaked clothes
Bitch it's shark week, ho you lunch meat
You thinking I'm somethin' sweet, got me confused
With the cotton candy hues on my 83
Diamonds against my wood, lighting one up for Pimp C
Riding with no tint to let them hoes know this
Smoke it, yeah
Money machine
Nigga you can count on
Money machine (money machine)
You can count on
High rises, wise guysing
Mob wives counting dollars pile up
A batmobile in my drive way, the Skydiver
Bringing more kush, jet fueled to the fire
Round you them bad bitches acting mad quiet
Hoes in the line, tryna tag team Roddy - nigga it's the pilot
Boat deck in my Nautica sweats, I'm yachting
Open water wilding like a Somalian pirate
Spotted your bitch and she instantly plotted
On ditching your simping and riding
Jet life is simple, we got it
To be honest, them other fools is square boxes
Funny nigga singing now, they Jamie Foxxes
Don't trip, we gon' keep on doing our shit, fool!
Ain't nothing changed but the balance
On the accounts in my name keep adding, maine
Max Julien lyrics - Curren$y
[From the "Super Fly" movie:]
"I'm gonna put that young girl of your's out on whore's row."
"Listen Priest, that's my wife you're talking about man"
"So what!"
I see something in you, I could use you mama
Keep up sweetheart, don't let me lose you mama
This that new shit, you gotta get used to mama
I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them
Yeah I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them, yeah
I'm not a star, but I'm sky high
Got a gangsta bitch in my car, she come to ride
My mob wife, word to Leah
Riding American muscle but I'm banging foreign features
That's my homie Sir Michael Rocks, I'm a let my speakers knock
Double back make the block so I can peep the scenery
See if it's worth getting out, doing a little mingling
Shit's a fucking circus sometimes, I swear it's Ringling
Brothers, where's my brothers bitch bring em in
Round table meeting shit, distinguished gentlemen
Weed so fire, it should come with an extinguisher
Steady fueling my engine, more penmanship pimping
Never was a henchman, just an underboss and then a kingpin
I done made my bones, now I'm playstation marathon in a robe
Running my business from my cellphone
(Yeaaa) homes
I ain't never gonna die homie, yeah
I see something in you, I could use you mama
Keep up sweetheart, don't let me lose you mama
This that new shit, you gotta get used to mama
I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them
Yeah I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them, yeah
Where you get that bag from, I can spot a fake shit
Them ain't genuine Louboutins, your little brother painted them
Don't know who you fooling or who you think you playing with
Looking at my club couch, you better stay away from here
You gon' stand up all night if you waiting on me to save you bitch
These seats reserved for boss ladies, my Rodeo babies
Fresh off Saks Fifth, brung mama with me to Chi-town Michigan Street
We hit the Polo mansion
Before I bought my gift, she swiped that card and had them box and bag it
I see something in you, I could use you mama
Keep up sweetheart, don't let me lose you mama
This that new shit, you gotta get used to mama
I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them
Yeah I'm on my Max Julien, who's cooler than
Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them, yeah
Motion lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Cornerboy P)
[From the "Super Fly" movie:]
"Alright you seen the dice, now let me see your money"
[Curren$y:]
Smelling like weed and Versace
Whips on blades like hockey skates
I already know them hoes watching
Niggas on side them they gon' hate
I ain't really worrying about them
This our time now, little homie gotta wait
Try to control your face
Hide your emotions, don't let everybody know it
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
(Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion)
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Michael Corleone, presidential Rollie on
Closet full of Jordan, Foams, Penny Ones
What they want, type of shit they on
We sling dope 'around here, dope tracks ma
Dope boy rides I buy, five outside
Three at mom's crib, she start 'em every now and then
Underground, though the word is I'm getting kinda big
Me, Roddy, and Trade smoke hella J's with Puff n'em
Come out with, grew up with, blew up with these niggas
I was standing in the front black 6's
Taking pictures with our best bitches
Bottom mama, that money pirahna
Go deep in that water, before I eat another bitch whole body
I promise that I can tell you all about it
How the boy made a million, by spitting about chilling with his partners
Find me a lighter
Smelling like weed and Versace
Whips on blades like hockey skates
I already know them hoes watching
Niggas on side them they gon' hate
I ain't really worrying about them
This our time now, little homie gotta wait
Try to control your face
Hide your emotions, don't let everybody know it
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
(Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion)
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
[Cornerboy P:]
We study long, study wrong
And shit, I got fast stocks to make sure my money long
Got paper, I'm getting to and got dollars I'm waiting on
They say life's a trip, but I don't see 'em on flights I'm on
Might see me in your city with bitches you're dying to fuck
I'm hopping out the kind of cars you wish you had keys for
Mother of pearl dial, double row baguetted up
Buy it, re-paint it, rim it up, you already know it's us
Who else riding this clean, or burning weed this strong
Making bitches leave home with their wedding rings off
Nigga JLR, from these hoes to these Raws
Know the life was just, only revolves around dough
And when they sense you getting rich, everybody plays you close
And I'm buying the same shit, tell me that I'm doing the most
{But I love the hard top, kinda like it when it's dry?}
They gon' hate me anyway, fuck 'em, thinking why not nigga, what
[Curren$y:]
Smelling like weed and Versace
Whips on blades like hockey skates
I already know them hoes watching
Niggas on side them they gon' hate
I ain't really worrying about them
This our time now, little homie gotta wait
Try to control your face
Hide your emotions, don't let everybody know it
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
(Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion)
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
The flight was two and a half hours
From New Orleans to NYC
Car service brung me to the Trump Tower
Got this one cougar thing lounging - luxury housing
Divorce settlement, bitch came out big
Nice couches, love, condo had columns
Ain't have to say shit, body language spoke volumes
Did what we wanted, disappear before the morning
Text message when she rose
Let me know I got the best of her and she woke up horny
And at my earliest convenience she would want more
If only, I didn't have another flight to catch, it'd be fa sho
My clock froze on check out time
That means I always gotta go
Smelling like weed and Versace
Whips on blades like hockey skates
I already know them hoes watching
Niggas on side them they gon' hate
I ain't really worrying about them
This our time now, little homie gotta wait
Try to control your face
Hide your emotions, don't let everybody know it
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
(Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion)
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Watch the Godfather, gangsta pictures in motion
Motion, picture my nigga, picture us rolling
Feelin Like lyrics - Curren$y
[From the "Super Fly" movie:]
"Aw sweet Jesus man them junkies must of knocked a hole in your head"
Like a nigga selling dope
Investigation, surveillance, life under the scope
They waiting to see me fail, I'm waiting on this boat
Damier printed sails love, I got somewhere to go
Dress like I really didn't have no plans
Light Rolex, maybe a chain, t-shirt, sweatpants
Bumping that Juicy J Bands A Make Her
But she made it shake and I ain't even have to pay her
And you know me, keep it OG, like the reefer and my papers
Got them suckers under guns infrared lasers
Me, I'm under the sun, sports car racing
Everyday we come up with some more amazing player shit
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
Feeling like I can have any bitch I want
Feeling like all these hoes in this bitch want me
Yeah, yeah
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
Wake up, thank the man I'm still alive
Freshen up, get dressed, pick which car I'm a drive
Backing out my driveway, automatic gates
Couple automatic assassins securing my estate
I don't know what I done, niggas mad at me
I bought a couple nice things, thought you'll be happy
But niggas wishing they hear that somebody kidnapped me
You wanna die cause your girl tryna get at me
Nigga stop, it's a world full of money
You wasting time worrying bout mine, fool get on it
Mega grind several times I was told I would be next to shine
Until I said fuck it and I snatched mine
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
Feeling like I can have any bitch I want
Feeling like all these hoes in this bitch want me
Yeah, yeah
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
When the club letting out I'm a pass in front
You all in your girl's face hoping she don't see
Pimpin', you can't police her, she gon' do what she want
Love just wanna fuck and smoke some good ass weed
She in the beater, nothing else, cleaning my bathroom
I'm syncing my iPhone to show on my tv
Ain't even all the way on, niggas ain't even seen
Nothing yet, Jet threat, fools, you hear me
Talking top Corvette, ZR1 top speed
It's a check at the finish line every dime I need
Every dime don't spend, hounds them hoes be
Out to get them so firstly I get me
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
Feeling like I can have every bitch I want
Feeling like all these hoes in this bitch want me
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Straw in my Rosé Mo's when I step through the door
And I'm rolling up smoke everywhere I be
Feeling like I can have every bitch I want
Feeling like all these hoes in this bitch want me
When the club letting out I'm a pass in front
You all in your girl's face hoping she don't see
Trip To London lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Fiend)
[Fiend:]
He never really saw the bullet coming
No type of instinct for running
I wish he would have came with me to London
I never knocked his hustle, I was the one that gave him muscle
And showed him how to make a missle, snap a bone gristle
Red peppered the floors, only by the doors
In case the D.E.A. got a drug sweep tour
Confuse the canine looking, and keep one on your waistline
A few thoughts when they really wanna chase mine
Why they wanna replace mine shots of tequila when I chase mine
Want bulletproof transport? Here's the number on who made mine
Smoking that gray pine, they save mine
I had to seek it, now I'm one of the ones that can speak it
[Curren$y:]
Ain't never gon' die homes
Too mufucking live for 'em
Tryna throw cases on him like a iPhone
Jet Lifers, never die-ers
Mongooses with the stunt pegs and my seat had the vice grip pliers
Screws loose but the game was tighter
Al Pacino, Robert Loggia, Michelle Pfeiffer
All survived the action cause they was actors
This real shit is tragic homie, them automatics is actually clapping
We gon' have to pour liquor if you can't move a lil' faster
They was sparin' yo sister out of respect but now they getting at her
Cause you gone homes it done matter
Shit cold as fuck but we know everyday it happen
Some people never knew until the First 48 came through
The television but my niggas really living in it fool
You didn't see it coming, no type of instincts for running
I wish you would have came with me to London
You didn't see it coming, no type of instincts for running
I wish you would have came to London
You didn't see it coming, no type of instincts for running
I wish you would have came with me to London
You didn't see it coming, no type of instincts for running
I wish you would have came to London
Stainless lyrics - Curren$y
Wishing for a steak, eating on a Kit Kat
And yo bitch ain't shit, my lil homie hit that
He let his partnas flip that, brung it through the set
Told him that I couldn't do nothin with that, she riff-raff
Bring that bitch back
I'm pretty sure her duck ass waitin' to pick that up
Dust her off, he missing that, he fucking up
Ho going hammer like the speakers in the trunk
Ain't nobody but us
If you wanna know where get that real killa from
These opium raps, blue magic in the drums
Vacuum lung kush
Dracula; you'll live forever fucking with us
Impressions ever lasting
Moving on up, we the crew them suckers mad at
I don't give a fuck; loud weed, loud laughing
Ya'll making excuses and I make it happen
Ya'll acting and I'm actually in action
Lil something bout a nigga like me
New orleans bossed up J.E.T
Neighborhood kids lookin up to em
Bad bitches stayin true to em
Niggas tryin to do em
But they can't do nothin to em cause he like stainless steel
Only hatin on him because he keep it way too real
I don't know why, but he just so fly
Inspiration in the clouds as I ride by em
Spitta get up on them beats sky high
Killing niggas like a drive by
Controlled flow, no wild fire
If it's meant for ya, I deliver like a sniper
Fire, right between yo eyes, no liar
Came up with these rhymes one night in my Spyder
Cruisin my city, I ain't go in the club for five minutes
I just parked outside it, leaned on my exotic
Chopped it with my compadres, conspiring
On how to take the bank and not trip the sirens
Jets ain't just the pilot
Anybody repping my set trained and certified in the flyness
Theres more to this then yo clothes, lil bro
Even though I look cool in these threads
I make moves with a level head
Rolling up in a Lincoln with some Snoop playing, thinkin bout
Lil something bout a nigga like me
New orleans bossed up J.E.T
Neighborhood kids lookin up to em
Bad bitches stayin true to em
Niggas tryin to do em
But they can't do nothin to em cause he like stainless steel
Only hatin on him because he keep it way too real
I don't know why, but he just so fly
Inspiration in the clouds as I ride by em
Talk My Shit lyrics - Curren$y
Bitches on chemicals
Moving bodies, sensual, sexual
Cynical, octopussy killer tentacles
Drown many of clown nigga
Bitches'll do it to ya every time
Ashes and ink every line
You'll swear I live the pimp life more than a couple times
The way I get in they minds without ever spending mines
Take a boss out to eat weak bitch, I want surf and turf steak
Big shrimps, hundred percent shore
If I'm in the building, your ho's trailing my scent yo
You know
Let me park my whip so I can get out and talk my shit
Let me park my whip so I can get out and talk my shit
(Life) Life (Life)
(Roll something)
Audio dope
Overdose, you'll go out like Scatter man
Watch classics, learn from the masters
Extract data man
I got the pounds and the million dollar plans
Grand steering wheel in my hand
Mama next to me rubberbanding up them grands
Finna to hit the car lot, cop two champagne sedans
Bitches drunk wanting to fuck, I'm sitting on the trunk rolling one up
Come on - we can ride
Burn trees down, switch cars on the east side
Vercetti Andretti, Corleone family
Watches heavy, strong arms
Snatch the world, carry it home
Me and my girls break a piece off, stuff it in a bong
Hit the couch, turn the game on
Yea, homes
Let me park my whip so I can get out and talk my shit
Let me park my whip so I can get out and talk my shit
(Life) Life (Life)
(Roll something)
Payroll lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)
[Curren$y:]
Uhh Cadillac Seville, mama what it is
Green peanut butter interior love get in here
Bitch get it in got a whiff of this shit uncle Snoop sent for Christmas
Twist this, girl said she would come with you but she didn't
Home girl slippin', she missed it
Fuck her we livin' it - butler's where I'm livin' in
No busters my niggas all of us authentic
I show you how to play the strings like guitar center
Thunder shook the ground when the gods enter
My car make the same sound when I start my engine
Pardon me as I write over the margin
Open up the market look what I started
Theatre in my house home box office
And that Chevy rollin' out like the red carpet
Hoes out tonight I wipe down my Ferrari
Same old shit I'm talkin' goin' down everyday in New Orleans
Never been paid to give a fuck
Might as well blaze another one
Never been paid to give a fuck
Might as well blaze another one
Never been paid to give a fuck
Might as well blaze another one
Never been paid to give a fuck
Might as well blaze another one
[Young Roddy:]
Started out three niggas became a business
On my king size mattress lay my mistress
First nigga from my set to make history
I got a picture on my wall of a Bentley
Picture my father was a hustler that's what's in me
Picture how I used to pedal work on my ten speed
Plus the rent's due I gotta make the ends meet
But I gotta show I gotta buy that Fendi
Or purchase Louis they tell me don't be stupid
So in my Nike Airs I grind 'til I'm Gucci
Plus the hurricane made me out to be a looter
The place I call home turned me into a shooter
Yeah but hip hop enabled me the future
Cause I get focused, spit like I'm toothless
But all that fake shit got me ruthless
Like fuck you, pay me, I don't give a fuck sue me
I'm trying to make some bread for my junior
Smellin' like a pound of that exclusive
I never got paid to give a fuck
So I might as well blaze another one
Life, I rep that shit fo' life
I never got paid to give a fuck
So I might as well blaze another one
2Much lyrics - Curren$y
Bitch cold, I swear Dairy Queen rolled up
Very clean, Spur flew over
She got caught up in them wings, we gon' turn a couple corners
Talk about of couple things, preliminaries went great
I'm a let you hit this weed, once we on that interstate
I don't be smoking on them streets
Them traffic lights will have you in a jam with the man
I ain't spending n'an minute
In the can of sky mall, tryna spend a hunnit grand
I know how to show you how we can get it spend it again
Gone in the wind, gone with the ones who win
Them boys is grown men, boss shit is what I'm spitting
So boss shit is what you getting when you make a decision to listen
I see them niggas figging, cause I'm high I'm slipping
They gon' knock me off position, but why
Cause a nigga be riding nice cars, fancy clothes
Naked hoes, and mansion homes
Got a lot but still we want more
Cause one thing you can never have is
Too much money, too much money, too much money
You can never have too much money, too much money, too much
Boss Dealings lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Noreaga Styles P)
[Noreaga:]
So there's about a million ways to make a million dollars
I know some chicks who try to make it from they baby fathers
I know some niggas that will shoot you right in front the cops
And do that 23 hour locked in the box
As a youth I prayed I make it out of poverty
Without rap, I would still be into robbery
Self conscious, self made
Got my life out of coach, upgrade
They try to claim it's a brand new game
Some brand new nigga sounded brand new lames
A brand new view from young OG's perspective
I love Newport so I iced out the necklace
I grew out of that, and got rid of it
And made chicks eat chicks on they period, eww
Uh that's nasty, got a song with Cassie
That should prolly tell you that I'm at least half classy
Reefer smoke, reefer smoke, fuck it let the reefer smoke
They can't afford the sour so they go and get the cheaper smoke
It's premeditated, I'm a highly dedicated
Highly medicated, shit, fuck it nigga
[Curren$y:]
Smoking a Jernt, scribbled in my tablets
Stoned thoughts nigga, scatter brained mathematics
Weed blurring my vision
Still see them digits add up to that Bentley truck
Parking sensor's beeping when I back up
I ain't got it now, but by the time you hear this
I instagram that motherfucker, hot boxing it
So many clouds we smoking, looking like a rolling explosion
Them bad bitches know him, kush and Gucci cologne
Releasing they pheromones, she horny
Looking for escape route, her man's be on it
Cops style, that bitch wild, I'm parked outside, I'm waiting on her
Back door flow, ho sled in the coupe with weed rolled up
Drove off, Jet life never die, G code Cuz
Pinky finger's frozen, Cuban link golden
Only built for that shit that them niggas kill for
Audio dope, fly as everything you never saw, forever raw
Yeah, that's us dog
[Styles P:]
Nigga you ain't getting high, what the fuck you give a fuck for
I just float, and watch the money come
Hustle when I was 12, own shit when I was 21
Whether walking or driving, I'm on the money run
Do it for jail niggas, microwaving they honey bun
Now everybody 'bout that life
You got shooters, I'm a shoot an eye out your life
That's the off switch, boss shit, couple niggas and corpses
Ask the security, y'all niggas up in the office
I get busy with the pounds, keys, and Taurus
That's a loaded gun, nigga start the Vet, let the motor run
Light the jedi, watch Yoda come
Tell em fuck em all nigga yeah I said it
I like to buy my shit, I don't care for credit
You can blank it out, I don't care to edit
Any rapper alive is who I dare to set it, yeah
It's Ghost, Spitta, and NO, let your man know
I have your face looking like you just fucked up an endo
Ew, nigga, ew, nigga
Cleopatra Zones lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Fiend)
[Curren$y:]
Life
My money up I bought the same car twice
I put one up museum pieces on ice
A future classic I've got foresight
Style too cold to be stole you'll get frost bite
I'm often imitated, though they never copy right
Logos on my letter head Jets copyright
Protected learned my lesson through some deals that wasn't right
Tires peeling like bananas burnouts at the light
Throw my set up out the window, we know what them hoes like
Rich nigga, hoes choose upon sight
Shit baby girl I want some shrimp with that rice
She know them niggas from my side drive nice cars
Park 'em at lofts, disappear for the night
Four corks in my bucket, Rose, Clicquot
In my system I'm right, bitch calm down, don't be acting all pysched
I'm not one of them guys, that's gon' hurry up and buy
I'm laid back I ain't gotta press to fuck, you gon' wan' give me that
As I proceed to roll up something loud
Bust yo ear drums, bitch I'm bossed out, smoke something
Living through these, vice city goggles
Roof top shots of vodka, helipad, bar hopping
Cancel that bitch, buy a new one, I'm always shopping
[Fiend:]
Move as the mob over the Mediterranian
Money make the snobbish ask again what lane he in
Spot blood suckers like born Transylvanian
Block so hot, they praying for it to rain again
I'm triple digits outside of this cool
If sweat get broke, she breaking her rules
E'ry neighborhood got a LeBron and a Jordan
And the Jumpmans stand for jumping off the porch and
Horns describe I got away with a small fortune
In my life, my right to live
Misconductly thoughts, bits of ground chuck
Haunts of ya mistrust, don't know where ya wound up
So much white think Christ done found us
And I never forget when they tried to drown us
We done buried so many, and prayed for way more
When scary ain't in us we on they radar
Blood of an innocent youngin', his father numbin'
Massacres at the movie theater, what we becomin'?
Battle in my Barkley's, this black card, my car keys
I tutored to the hustlas spare time, I taught these
Pizzazz and the paper make her don't want leave
Plug so sweet a diabetic want these
I'm on the shrooms and Ketel One
See these shoes? we never run
Better crew will never come
[Curren$y:]
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some with me
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some with me
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some with me
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some
Only live bitches and my bitches gonna smoke some with me
Just brought this here for me
For Seasons lyrics - Curren$y (feat. King Chip)
[Curren$y:]
Higher than ever, gray leather
Head rest, 2 letters, double S's
I love them Chevys to death
These niggas fakin' they ready, forgettin' they lines on set
Don't know how to play they role, they more inclined to play themselves
I just live amongst them trees
Bakin' goodies, keebler elves
Smokin' with them bitches got em' focused in the kitchen
Pots whippin I'm chillin'
My and my nigga' grub like kings and then we dippin'
Interstate, lane changer, Rover Rangin' 96
Lighters flickin' like them blinkers
A motivated stoner mind blown but I be thinking
Matchin' Benzes in ten days kid, live to talk about it like Ace did
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
Nigga pay that up front like the Ferrari trunk
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
Nigga pay that up front like the Ferrari trunk
[King Chip:]
Yeah my nigga we in this bitch
Smokin' strong that's the long
Got some shit that get you gone
YSL, Dior Homme
I'm a do this whole verse without no punch lines
King Chip really livin' fuck the one time
Spitta hit me up when I was in Vegas, like you need some weed?
I say hell yeah must have read my mind, where it be
Twelve thousand dollar outfit in that Tech G
I don't owe nobody shit, King Chip debt free
Matter fact, couple Cleveland killers owe me
I can tell 'em keep it, have 'em run up on you no P
Locked inside my head, hella weed, hella dead cops
Me and Spitta smoke too much to not have dread locks
Stalking haters on my Twitter, sniping 'em with headshots
Bitch ass eighth grader, fucking hater dead now
Damn that nigga Chip is crazy, maybe it's the weed, Spitta
E'rybody know that ain't nobody cold as these niggas
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
Nigga pay that up front like the Ferrari trunk
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
We just worryin' bout the money them bitches gon' come
Nigga pay that up front like the Ferrari trunk
Light Snax lyrics - Curren$y
A lime to a lemon my Jetset women
Say she only feel alive when she with em
Jet Life tryna show she ride or die even if it kill her
I guess that's why I dig her
She throwin up the set in all her pictures
I come get her - smoke dilla through the cracked windows
Heavy conversation light dinner
Destination and into the navigation
A GPS we kept from an out-of-state rental
Underneath the moon and stars riding to that Krizzle
You like that sound, that's my nigga he from Mississippi
I be on tour with him you should come along with us
Champagne, flutes, cheese, crepes, and fruit
Fuck you know, Four Seasons drunk
Rolling a joint hitting buffet tables the fuck up
Get you back to your man's 'fore he knows what's what
Your friends hating on you saying you lucked up
A lime to a lemon my Jetset women
They allow me to get in where ever I fit in
I stop by we be chillin' and I get high with em
She caught three nuts but she never catch feelings
And bitch with that disposition we can count millions
I see that in ya got that 420 vision
'98 livin' these iceberg sweats got 20 racks in em
Light Snax, Andretti
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