Scared of Monstas lyrics - Curren$y

You niggas scared of monsters (Jets, nigga)

This beat right here is a monster

Them niggas scared of monsters (Jets, bitch)

You already know what weed do to my mind, fool

Make stars align when I step in the sound booth

Rhyme patterns dripping battery acid on the tablet

Letters etched in stone resting next to my phone

Best I be left alone when I'm resting on my throne

Writing that's exciting you, upset cause your girl like it

I guess I'm a psychic, I told you that I would do it

Credit Spitta for repping New Orleans hard in his music

I was cool with Master P when Eddie Griffin was foolish

Paid a California girl that was into Karma Sutra

Don't believe in Santa Claus, but I believe in monsters

They'll beat your head off if I leave you around 'em

Stay within your bounds, some of them city niggas clowning

I'm just looking down from my private terrace, lounging

You just looking down cause I'm steady up climbing

So high, I feel the temperature drop in the climate

Cause niggas scared of monsters

Them niggas scared of monsters

This beat right here is a monster

Sweatpants and Bo Jackson's

Listening to Pac's teardrops and closed caskets

Story got told that was oh so tragic

Every day in the presence the same shit happens

Nigga get clapped and retaliation follow

Homie kill whoadie, whoadie's homie's gonna kill homie tomorrow

Oblivious hood, I ride in my Monte Carlo

Pinning my rhymes of happiness, not sorrow

So I don't shift from sugar niggas, a pusher

That's why when my brother offered me a burner I took it

Pray I never have to use it but I keep it baby

Cause it seems the cool niggas getting killed lately

And I'll be damned, never mind, I'll put it behind

Delorean doing eighty five, I travel through time

That's how I got that old game, leaning on the Azure

Mama said nice car, I'm like this old thing?

Cause niggas scared of monsters

Them niggas scared of monsters

This beat right here is a monster

Elevator Musik lyrics - Curren$y

Long night

Think I gave my last hundred to the fuckin' valet, damn

Good evening Mr. Jackson

I mean good morning, shit

Dang

Number four Jordan soles to the floor, steppin' through the elevator door

Select a level that I wanna be on, one push of a button be gone

Doors open in the living room of my home

Penthouse I own, I got it on my own

When I'm gone engrave that phrase on my tombstone

Nigga I'm in the zone, like the 1-3-1

Lookin' down on the super dome gettin super dome

New Orleans I roam, I love where I'm from

They know where I started they know how far I've come

If I said I'mma do it you could consider it done

My track record approve it I showed you for seven months

Mixtape after mixtape all was solid

Google my name and you could read all about it

No longer No Limit but a nigga still Bout It

No longer Cash Money still got fat pockets

Uhh, this is elevator music

All we do is ride around and get high too it

All we do is ride around and get high too it

All we do is ride around and get high too it

That's why we call it the elevator music (Look up it's the jets nigga)

This is elevator music

Cause all we do is ride around

And get high to it (Where haven't we been yet)

Uhh, a yessir

I got my lazy eyes on that prize dime right there

I pull up the coupe, it's like a pull out a chair

Because the girl broke a smile and just sat there

Yeah shit happen like that all the time, I'm used to it

I just take it in stride, split another, keep movin

Tie loose ends, burn a couple of frees

Chop fan business, burn a pound of haze

Moves get made, more funds to raise

Niggas wanna get paid, get high, get laid

And repeat those steps in that order everyday

My name in these streets, my name is my name

That shit that I say to remind you niggas

Even if you don't see me I'm around you niggas

I pound these bitches, dumbfound these critics

Just spittin' the shit that I'm really livin'

Spitta

Uhh, this is elevator music

All we do is ride around and get high too it

All we do is ride around and get high too it

All we do is ride around and get high too it

That's why we call it the elevator music (Look up it's the jets nigga)

This is elevator music

Cause all we do is ride around

And get high to it (Where haven't we been yet)

On My Plane lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low)

Yeah

Jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Could turn me up a lil bit though

Fuck boys is wonderin' if they bitch next

Everybody like "He's no item, please don't like him"

But the chance to sip cham with champs is enticing

Tried to fight the fever she followed them flashing lights man

And it's leading her directly to where I am

I stand G'd up as always

You can't knock it

Three cheers for spitta cause he always on his fly shit

I caught her eyes with sure hands like the legendary Jerry Rice

I give it to her right have her dreamin of weddin rice

She never smoke so much weed in her life

She high, I'm high

Too stuck to wake up

Remote control, shut the blinds

I wouldn't mind if we fuck a dozen mo times

Before you dip cause you gotta get back to your man

Don't ask when you can see me again

I ain't good at making plans

Cooler than a ceiling fan

Spendin winter time at iceland, I am

When I get too high on my plane

Will I remember how dope it was last time you came

When I get too high on my plane

And if I ever touch down in your city we could do it again

A rolling stone gathers no moss

I'm stoned

Rolling joints, flipping hoes like a coin toss

Niggas don't trust spitta cause he knock they hoes off

Homie I don't fuck witcha then there's no holds barred

Brung her to the club with you fool

That's yo fault

She chose to move with a boss

That's yo loss

Bitch niggas hatin on the jets so they throw salt

Mama lovin on the jets wanna take her clothes off

Homie in the car all alone as he drove off

He gone cry in the car

Won't see his girl till tomorrow

She at my crib in a bra

Dancing on top of the bar

Don't trip just friends we are

Shorty I'm goin far

And you see me smart enough to know

That I'm finna blow

Like a lit firecracker or some armed C4

Goin places and seein things

Fuckin hella bad bitches and not attachin any strings

When I get too high on my plane

Will I remember how get the plugs last time you came

When I get too high on my plane

And if I ever touch down in your city we could do it again

16 Switches lyrics - Curren$y

Yup, yea, yea, JETS, nigga

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Spitta

Nigga

(Took another pull of the potent)

16 Switches Spitta

(Dope tracks, he dozin', spitta get them...)

Ya'll niggas scared of monsters?

I don't bang, I spit the good rhymes

The whole scenery reminding me of Good Times

Cause I'm posted, toasted up

By my hood bitch, she rolling up ganja

I'm reading over scripts for a HBO drama

Mo' zeroes, mo' commas

Mo' pretty drunk bitches piled in my Impala

6-3 drop top, just like Doughboy

Do we got a problem?

Hope not nigga, just tryna have a good time

Cause I heard there's hoes out

Whoa now, told her I don't like her rocking with her toes out

I'm after Jenny with the Foamposite Pennys

These niggas is actors, they need Emmys

These bitches wear me out like Fendi

Again, these niggas is actors, give 'em all Emmys

These bitches wear me out like Fendi

Spitta!

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion

Throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion

Throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

I even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp

And it read "Spitta, please don't quit

Cause you that shit, them niggas ain't like you

They don't make that shit to smoke and ride to like you do"

I admit that it's true, I'm good at which I do

I can show you the proof, cop a coupe and put the footage on YouTube

"Spitta you that nigga", ladies tell me on the daily

Hit my MySpace and put the ringtones on they cellies

I'm on the couch, eyes glued to the telly

Watching Family Guy, waiting for Brian to sing "Peanut Butter & Jelly Time"

Rarely I'm seen on the club scene lately

Cause in my city, it's a couple DJs hating

Homie I'm saying, nah fuck it, I'm laying up in the crib

Swiss cheese, sliced turkey on top of the Ritz

Cracker, that's that shit

When you get as high as I get

I got the munchies, tell your honey make some more for me, bitch

(Yea, yea, that's it, that's it, that's the one right there)

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion, throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

Lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the 3 wheel motion, throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

I'm just lokin'

Open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the 3 wheel motion

He goes in

Get them, wide open

The Jets Son lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low & Jean LaPhare)

[Curren$y:]

Bet you never met a nigga like me

Spitta came for the Nike's, these checks written off

Payed to the order of, he who resides in the high-rises

Above the city of crime, our music changin' their minds

Opening eyes, you witness history

I am the epitome, of a nigga doin' what he please and getting cheese simultaneously

Their flows ain't as craze as these

I got a million of 'em, bet you out there, get the crowd moving with any of them

Got them going, got 'em coming

Spitta revolving. Don't go around, merry-go

Suckas marry hoes, and try to turn them into housewives

After the show, she into telling with us, she's surprised

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

[Curren$y:]

Gorilla in the mist, still on my Bape shit

Play with hoes in my Playcloths, shout out to the Clipse

Stroll through the mall, stop for some chicks, took a couple pics

Asked what's the same ole' shit

Oh so, play them old whips, you know how I roll

Chevy so fast, shawty's scared, ridin shotgun with her eyes closed

Niggas know I buy O's, like I'm on the Wheel of Fortune

Hope you get it, won't be too surprised if you didn't

Have to take a second listen, be my guest I ain't trippin

Women tell me you ain't like the other rappers, you different

Cause I don't put on a front, I put on for my city

I put my niggas on, and I put them on some bad bitches, yeah!

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

[Dee-Low:]

You know how it go down when I come in this bitch, ya heard me

Walk like a pimp, nigga talk real dirty

Ladies love my boy like I'ma prince or something

So I just chill back and play with their tits or somethin'

They don't mind, they be like "Go, Dee-Low!"

After the show, they like "Can we come, Dee-Low?"

Nah give me your digits and I'll give you a call

You know I'm all booked up, sorry ho

What do you expect, I'ma pimp, a balla' ho

You see the crew, you see the bong, you see the plane color floor

J-j-just watch us, I glow

If you Dee to the Low, me and Spitta bout to take a trip to Tokyo

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

Sail On lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Chris)

[Young Chris:]

Gunna! (Sail on!)

Shit was all good while it lasted, but I can't keep on sailing

As long as the fiends keep on itchin', nigga, the grams keep on sellin' (that's right!)

Bottom of the roost, from the heart of North Philly

To the top of Hollywood, model bitches, Cali-good

I got something that they need, that they want, I'm the supplier, shorty

Low numbers on them pretty bitches and it's FIRE!

Ghetto be my prior, I be the one that they admire

Home of the flier, I gotta become a retire, it's a rap!

I got it from here, yes I solemnly swear

This is a global introduction, a hottest premiere

Been the fuzziest year, staring out of my rear

Fuck the pussy police! We got shotties to air

Never dead body, a pair, paid a pussies a visit

Never mind being tense, never fuck a statistic

Never disappearance, and nobody know why he did it

Its just the code of this shit, and we live it, Curren$y kick it

(Uh kick it)

[Curren$y:]

Yeah!

One of the masters of the drug flow

Anti-club dress code, I just ignore those

Narnia lions, different dimensions in my wardrobe

Thinking' on the outside of the box like a barcode (Sail on!)

Like a seven-foot center, Spitta don't gotta cross over

I just stay in the lane, show off dunks and hang

From my goals obtained, planes boarded

Though I was already soarin', you smell it in my clothes

Mixed with cologne by Ralph Lauren

Spitta missin', you lookin' for him?

Take a number, nigga never home

Gotta call me on the yacht

Floatin' out, bottles poppin' before I left the dock

Who is that in the Vinny Jack bumpin' Super Cat, XJ 12?

Soft top, retractable shell

Parking near the boat launch in Paris, spending french bread

Nigga croissants, I got a flow that you can sail on

Yeauh!

[Commodores & (Curren$y):]

Sail on, sugar! (Yea, yep. They look up to the Jets nigga, now where haven't we...?)

Good times never felt so good (Wondering if they-)

Sail on, sugar! (Crookin' their necks and they lookin' up to the JETS)

Good times never felt so good (From the mansion to the yacht deck)

[Curren$y:]

(Uh)

Spitta is chillin', jeans, paper, denim

Milk and Oreos with the double stuffed filling

On the internet, ordering another engine

For the lavender Chevy with the suede grey innards

Seen niggas go insane trying to get it

The thought process of a first place winner

JETS nigga! We enter the dragon, got Bruce Lee in the go-yard

My lethal kicks cause damage

Vaca Puff Sour Diesel in the hammy

They hated on it, said that it could never happen

I waited on em as my plan was bein mastered

Have patience cuz the best is the last laughin'

Slashing, dashing, through my defenders, no look passin'

Bitches in the rapture love my rappin' with a passion

And I'm... New Orleans fliest

Do rewind this, The JETS get the highest

(Uh)

[Commodores:]

Sail on, sugar!

Good times never felt so good

Sail on, sugar!

Good times never felt so good

Got It lyrics - Curren$y

They look up to the

Fuck boys wonderin

Bitches know the planes got it

Bitches know the planes got it

Incinerate the streets

The moment that my size 7 Bapes graze concrete

Every step I take bring me closer to the roaster in the villa

Wakin up to chilled mimosas

I do it how a real nigga supposed to

I obligated myself in '02

When I seen Soulja Slim bring that lac truck through

I'm the truth these niggas is daffy

Duck ass niggas keep quackin

But I can't hear ya I got a sound proof cabin

Roll down my window just to pitch out yo wack ass album

I got you hot on the street... literally

I'm like yo promo team my lolo green

10 switches in the button for james bond smoke screen

I'm a hard act to follow

Niggas need luck better rub that log at the apollo

Bitches know the planes got it

Bitches know the planes got it

And you can't do a thang about it

Bitches know the planes go it

Bitches know the planes go it

And that ain't gone change I'm sorry

I'm so sick with it one listen

Might have niggas coughing n sniffling

My pockets is fatter than peter griffin

Green in em like my rollin papers

Had a couple niggas round me that I know was haters

Gave em enough rope to hang themselves that's how I played em

Broke they own necks you see they body swayin

From the ceilings n they mental prisons

Closed minds wasn't open to the fly living

Soon they understand that they never stand over my niggas

Tabulate the statistics

Congratulate the victors

We leave lames as air strike victims

I'm on my shit

These karate carbon copy jockin my kicks

I'm at work in my play clothes

Louis luggage on the racks of the range rove

Murder on the beat cased closed

Power Button lyrics - Curren$y

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Jets nigga

Shout out to the big homie, shout out to Big Ben

Ferris Buller

This ought to be good for like a whole box of lettermans and hoodies and all that shit

Word to Trademark my style need a padlock

Moon man suited up I'm an astronaut

You mad because I does what you cannot

Crib fit for a king, you would swear I had an architect from Camelot

Inspire niggas to go, how could I ever stop giving niggas the hot

The rhymes I rock inspire fly niggas to shop

And bitches rub they titties like they did for big pop

Spitta keep it honest diamonds and dollars

In the Bahamas slice ya wifey like an avocado

Blame it on the moscato, she went crazy with the bottle

Fly Vision, I seen it all through aviator goggles

Las Vegas, heavy wages, stakes raising, poker faces in the red label

All large, I roll up like zig-zag papers

Shocked they ass, give em this taser

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

And I'm so sure that them suckers over there

Ain't making the same shit we making over here

Them niggas switching the rules they ain't even playing fair

Originality seemed to have vanished in the air

I remember a time

Back when niggas could rhyme

A I-Pod and a ride a nigga bumping the tribe

Got my pedal to the metal in my De La Highs

Me, myself, and I

Me myself I'm high

See I sleep in my eyes

Gotta keep a disguise behind enemy lines

By the time they recognize that I have arrived I done entered they mind

Sneaker Freak and baby who could be more sneaker than I

Spitta be the equivalent to a bed of nails

He who sleeps on Spitta will not sleep well

Got cheese and Guac, nigga Taco Bell

I been had this bread it's all moldy and stale

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

Up Here lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)

[Curren$y:]

Niggas know, the lyrical molesting has taken place

Second guess and spit, vicious ain't safe

Concetrated on the album fell back from the tapes

Soon as this is done it's back to square 1

It's the return of the real life live nigga no tint

Ride fly, Don't hide

Record label meetings I'm high in 'em

Got a nigga stressed

They don't want to cut the check

'Less they they feel they'll get a major ???

Try to put me in a house nigga suit

So they could present me to the press

But I built my own house and you're an unwelcome guest

My heart, my mind is where I hit my wealth first

My pocket and my bank account came next

C6 'vettes, G-5 jets, 20K bets, while you niggas still in debt

Wondering what I'm doing why haven't I dropped yet

I'm on your bitches mind and a haters neck

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

When the wheels touch down

You know the jets are in town

Smoking from the personal pound

I leave ground still high after the plane land

Your bitch with me,you left us 17 voice mails

Nigga daaamn

You're myspaceing and facebooking, looking for your girl

To no avail , she's been tooken

Spitta and that jet music what she get used to it

Can't beat us, can't join us neither

We dont need ya, got our eye's on the prize my nigga

We dont see ya,niggas starving for attention

So they throwin' bait to the sky fly fishin'

I ain't trippin cuz them simpletons ain't even in a nigga division

This is real rap, them niggas is real whack

I'm standing in the customer service return line

With my microphone, trying to bring hip hop back

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned what you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

[Young Roddy:]

Since the clock don't stop I'm getting money in a rush

And All the shit that I heard, I kept it on the hush

And now I'm fly as fuck, and I don't need no kush

Just smelling like purple haze mixed with the million bucks

And mamma told me: hold it down,she doesn't ask for much

So I'm on my Jefferson shit, im movin up

And my Texas homie told me that in a year they'll screw me up

And never will I ever touch girl without guts

Real niggas call it skills and fake niggas call it luck

So most niggas pay vaginas, so most niggas get fucked

And I still run the city like a RTA bus

But I'm still hard to find like a diamond in the rough

Yeah a trendsetter so they copy how I do mine

And nigga switched his hustle when I got a new grind

We keep jars of kush, no grey poupon

And circle locked and safe, nah, we dont need no new guys

[Curren$y:]

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned what you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

Food 4 Thought lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Amanda Diva & Mickey Factz)

[Curren$y:]

Burn slow like joints of purple

Hot Spitta, jet nigga ya'll know

Roll 84 down bumpy roads

Take Kanye advice: drive slow

Niggas think they tough they not macho

They soft, soggy nachos

That's mine doggie not yo's

Style, gear, ya got it from here

No worries, raps I got plenty to share

I'm on top I did my ground work last year

You could pass go you could pass the ball

But don't pass me the reggie that you're growing in your backyard

Shit might hurt me fuck my raps off

Aurora Borealis blast make me blast off

I came I kicked that shit

Shoulda took my Chris Webber Air Max off

Come on and take a bite

Of this food for thought

Let it ease your mind

Let it take control

[Mickey Factz:]

I was born in Roswell

Performed and dropped hell

It's the lyrical Norman Rockwell

And I have to be seen

Call me the king looking for my Alexander McQueen

Mean, I'm giving soul food to protools

That go through your brain waves, you like it don't you?

Don't move, and ya'll won't late

It's John Coultrane with this raw propane

I line 'em up like we on Soul Train

Cause rappers stink like raw Lo Mein

And I paint pictures like Claude Monet

So when you listen to me it's like you snort cocaine

I scored [?]

She heard of me

It's Mick Jordan chillin with Steve Curren$y

Emergency, come talk to a beast

Whose givin' you food for thought

It's all you can eat

PEACE

Come on and take a bite

Of this food for thought

Let it ease your mind

Let it take control

[Amanda Diva:]

Hot like pepper pot

Sweet like sour sop

West side born

But the spice isle in my heart

Boss like the man Barack

People listen when I talk

Start of the movement

I'm the spark that got the game on lock

Took my spot

I foxed the lot

Didn't see me coming

Bgirl I can pop and lock

But Got them boys running man

Like water they want it and I got it drippin

A lady they buggin if they think they'll be sippin

On this nectar

Next to greatness empress of the rhythm

Rising to the top/ like cream of the crop

I redeem all the little women like Alcott

Give em someone to believe in not a black girl lost

And the table's been set we preparing a feast

Something for the mind spirit and the body

Cookin up the future with these rhymes and beats

So go and get out the kitchen if you can stand the heat

Galaxy lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low, Jean Lephare & Wodinsky)

Uh now why you want to go and do that love?

A pretty thing like you in this wack club

I'm figurin you should tell your friends that your exiting

With spitta, remember the one who wrote in your direction

That's him that's me came here one deep

Tryna leave plus one the ship got two seats

I can tell by your size 3 jordan OG's

That your hip to the fly mama where you hide your wings

I'm sure when your out men say strange things

Grabbin ya, shakin ya, breathin stankin ya face n shit

They the pilots for one night relationships

My neihbors rich I just lay back and do spit

Ya hungry? I can check in the fridge

Throw somethin together I can cook a lil bit

Right quick pancakes bacon n cheese grits

She textin her friend like girl this nigga the shit

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Uh, let's fly over your home

Higher than 30000 feet pass the ozone

Pass the joint to the nigga with the mild tone

Mama how quick can you put your digits in my cell phone

I switch em like I do my kicks and this is well known

Look how I switch two different girls in the same song

Say its wrong but who do we place the blame on

Games we play because on us they was played on

Dead wrong but don't make it right

And the patron is telling us to call it a night

We tryin fight the urge to splurge and blow purp

Watch revenge of the nerds fuck until we both hurt

Girl our heavy bottomless in the fly society shirt

Doobie in that villa you are not of this earth

The doctor who delivered you witnessed the stars birth

I was here before her but she still came first

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Look Up To The Jets lyrics - Curren$y

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

[Curren$y:]

Brazilian bitches rolling my green leaves

Laying with they clothes off

Mahfucka I'm spitta, proved to niggas I wasn't a quitta

They thought it was over until the Jets took over

Act like you don't see it pimpin look up we cloud surf

Homie you can have the streets the sky is my turf

My work done doubled over the summer you in trouble

Cause the labels know I'm sure to do my numbers

The checks get cut like chef sliced cucumbers

Rocked first season BBC to the season opener

Half time we probably with the club owners

It ain't enough room in this city

About to land planes on some niggas houses yes

Homie come up out it this is our shit

Ask your girl who she rep she say jets

And in the steps of Michael Jordan

I won't claim to be the best

I just let my work speak for itself

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

Bitches know the planes got it

Had it in the back so long I forgot about it

Club couch with a purple cloud around it

Bitches crowd around it I just lay back on my shy shit

Me and Young Roddy on our high shit

We don't know the difference between yo bitch or our bitch

But it was clear when your bitch got in my whip

Hot Spitta my music the soundtrack to the life every rich nigga

Niggas familiar with Recaro interior and rear mounted engines

My addiction to luxury livin is serious

Recording in a padded room my flow is delirious

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

Top Of The Money lyrics - Curren$y

Yea... Yea... Yea

This ain't no mixtape

Damn we might have just named my album

Yea... Yea... uh

Grey polo sweats, yellow gold rolex

Blue facial mask, ya'll niggas ain't on that

One of the best rappers, you ain't heard yet

Though over the years I've enjoyed minor success

Where would underground rap be minus the jets?

At home living inside it's all kind of depressed

Gotta watch where I step, there's all kind of traps

Trying to keep me on the ground, I ain't got time for that

Trying to put me in my rhymes where we supposed to be at

Fly society mansion with swimming pools in the back

New Orleans what's happenin?

Yea your dude is back

Might see me in traffic in the Caprice classic

With the windows crackin, it's me flicking my ashes

Cut the check and I cash it

Blow it all on glasses

95 air maxes and mad pounds of Cali

No socks with the bad ones them bitches keep lookin at me

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Got deals on the table, silverwares and napkins

The right moves they help me take care of my family

Two coups will make me more of a chick magnet

Spitta destined for greatness I always knew it would happen

I just laid in the Gap like one of the store mannequins

From the back burnin my attack I was plannin it

And now I'm bendin corners in the Nomad Wagon

Sittin them 22s with the staggered fittin

Fishtail tail whippin I'm burnin rubber my tires spinnin

Spittin what I'm livin never lyin in my lines

I'm the truth in the booth hit it real when I rhyme

They see me on my grind and they be like aw shit

Spitta fly that plane he gone make em all rich

We just do our thing we don't listen to your shit

We just listen to ourselves we the niggas ya'll bit

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

mixtape: How Fly (2009) - (with Wiz Khalifa)

 

• Car Service
• All Over
• The Check Point
• The Planes
• Fly Niggas Do Fly Things
• S.D.L.
• In The Middle
• Layover
• Drunk Dialing
• How Fly
• Friendly
• The Life
• Surface To Air
• Over The Building
• Rollin Up

Car Service lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Clear the runway baby

I get money from Sunday to Sunday lady

Ohh behave I'm young, rich famous

Grinding, keep my pockets on Schwarzenegger

O.G in my Swisher so my blunt taste flavored, don't it?

Y'all niggas can get if you want it

Tryna catch a flight?

I'm in the back seat playing Xbox, car service just chillin'

Burners in the wall, money all through the ceiling

And Spitta on the phone, tell my dawg that we killin'

These fuckin blogs, they love a star and I'm flashin'

Life just like a movie

No casting. Ask if

The game been kinda slow but I'mma treat it like a Ashton

Pedal to the metal I'm mashin'

All we know is big money, medical weed, and fashion

So, try your best to imagine

Bro

I'm rollin up another one

Starring out this window, window, window, windowwww

They tellin me to change how I'm livin', but it's all I know

You see me in every city on my way out to another one, another one, another one, another ooonne

You find me anywhere that paper go, go, oh, oh, ohhhhh

[Curren$y:]

Bong rips

Double S's with the floor shift

Windows 20/20 clear

Peep the 20's on the rear

Order the car service

If I feel as though I don't want steer

Bitches freeze in the Xenon headlights like a deer

But not out of fear, she looking cause its money over here

Shine from above these land lovers I'm a chandelier

My girl gotta pocket bubbler in her purse

She keep it G and pack the bowl with weed and let me hit it first

Ain't tryna be a hogg, dawgy all I want is what I'm worth

80 days, 80 stages baby all around the earth

Amazing race for the paper you suckas eattin' dirt

Chew some orbit gum, brush your teeth and scrape your tongue

Fresh as they come, second to none

Pretty woman flirt

Batting eyelashes they need guidance

Lace em up like my New Balance

And keep flyin'

The closest that you lames ever came

To the planes was a Palm Pilot

[Wiz Khalifa:]

I'm rollin up another one

Starring out this window, window, window, windowwww

They tellin me to change how I'm livin', but it's all I know

You see me in every city on my way out to another one, another one, another one, another ooonne

You find me anywhere that paper go, go, oh, oh, ohhhhh

All Over lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

("How Fly" version)

[Curren$y:]

Set, where haven't we been yet

Jet Set, where haven't we been yet

Jet Set, where haven't we been yet

Jet Set, where haven't we been yet

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Toronto and Amsterdam, Brazil, Paris, France and Japan

Anything for the grands, yea)

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Germany to Italy, North South Pole, anywhere in between, anything for the green)

Spitta, spend yen on bape

Red carpet, yo bitch my date

She throwin' the Jets in every pic we take

I upload em with a song on Nah Right today

Those niggas is not like the planes

Them hoes don't digg em, they tryna get on my team

And how can you blame, she know self preservation

The first rule, she know she'd die of boredom if she with you

While I'm sitting poolside looking real cool

With a Grape flavored 50 cent juice

Paid for one, the corner store lady gimme two

Nigga that's love, that's what I live on

Right before take off, twitter from the cell phone

Another show rock, more money got word to Chris and Neef

Can't stop won't stop, yea

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Toronto and Amsterdam, Brazil, Paris, France and Japan

Anything for the grands, yea)

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Germany to Italy, North South Pole, anywhere in between, anything for the green)

[Wiz Khalifa:]

C'mon, I go straight where the cash is

Heard about your last date being tragic

I know, my last tape was a classic

So all I hear now is paper or plastic?

Few Rosays, now you drunk saying boy

"Why you in my face and you only want one thing?"

You wasting your time fucking lames

Only 2 things poppin, that's Jet Set and The Gang

Eating sushi, few groupies, new clothes and left over room keys

I want my good girl to smoke weed and love playing Nintendo Wii

And I got pictures in my cell phone, iChat

When I'm gone, land somewhere calling home

Put me right up where the best at

Nigga we Jet Set, so where haven't we been yet?

Yes

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Toronto and Amsterdam, Brazil, Paris, France and Japan

Anything for the grands, yea)

Getting money all over the world, all over the world

(Germany to Italy, North South Pole, anywhere in between, anything for the green)

The Check Point lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa:]

And we living material, as long as the money straight they wanna see me fall

But I got a crib that's over looking the city though

And a lot of bitches who wanna get in our videos

Ten to twelve hour long trips, bong rips

I ain't interested in what you selling I run my own shit

Made it through a long list, did my all

Some will talk slick, but no contest, I'm best dressed

That's why the bitches love me

She leaving you to come where the liquor and drugs be

I'm glass floor now you passport and over seas we watching the sunrise

Smoke a joint out on the beach

Write my name in the sand, I

Never been a nigga who had a lucky nothin' you can say everything I planned out

Now I stand out

I fell asleep on the plane and woke up to people screaming my name!

No matter which way I go, they tell me don't take that road

But I never put my foot on the brake oh no

I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh

I don' think it's wrong (Jets)

Doing a hundred but they tell me to take it slow (Nigga)

But I never put my foot on the break oh no (It's the Planes and the Taylor Gang)

I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh (Got your bitches slipping off their wedding rings)

[Curren$y:]

Livin' the life is just me

Some bitches my niggas in a crib full of vices

But I don't do drugs, just weed

Caution flags wave, and fuck it I still speed

And proceed to give them what they waiting for

Daytona 500 guess who lighting joints up in the pace car

Play hard, but I work way harder to afford

Boats, put your women on the water let 'em boogie board

Slightly older still, sexy broad, thank Demi Moore

Just strip for me without the tease, give me more

Still rockin' Golden Eye on the Nintendo 64

Sayin they don't make 'em like this anymore

Same goes for my whip, same goes for my kicks, rare

And I don't rush to the store, they save me a pair

Yeah, a nigga living in the air

Spending more time in the clouds then I spend on the ground

Do the opposite, fuck taking advice from these clowns

Thats why I mash the gas when they tell me slow down

Yeah!

No matter which way I go, they tell me don't take that road

But I never put my foot on the brake oh no

I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh

I don' think it's wrong (Jets)

Doing a hundred but they tell me to take it slow (Nigga)

But I never put my foot on the break oh no (It's the Planes and the Taylor Gang)

I never put my foot on the break oh no, ah no oh (Got your bitches slipping off their wedding rings)

The Planes lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y:]

I guarantee you leave the club with us you won't be the same

They can't help it c'mon these bitches know it's The Planes

Let all my money talk for me, what more can I say

That money will be seen, as soon as I put my key

You put your key in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

I put my key, you put your feet in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

[Curren$y:]

My car ride by without the boomin' system

I'd rather spend that loot on my engine

Oh, hail to the chief, I been one hell of an Indian

But settling in tepees ain't sitting' well with me see

I need plenty green acres

And EZ Wider papers

Got the OG game in me Sega Bulls vs. Blazers

To the left I played her, but you treat her right

Sucker what I get in one night

You wait a couple months for

You love her, I cut up

She woke and I was gone, only weed crumbs on the cover

Yeah Spitta did her like that

Just like I said it in my raps

Respect it, don't I keep it real?

Said I fuck you good and disappear, ain't that what I did?

Niggas talkin' down on The Planes better shut up

I'm fed up, waitin' on valet to pull my 'Vette up

You better get up

Tryna be cute bitch I'mma leave you

Her home girl she said "please" too

She no crazy

[Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y:]

I guarantee you leave the club with us you won't be the same

They can't help it c'mon these bitches know it's The Planes

Let all my money talk for me, what more can I say

That money will be seen, as soon as I put my key

You put your key in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

I put my key, you put your feet in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Drunk nights going through my phone

Tryna figure out which one I want to get at

You already home cookin' and grinding' my weed for me

I just left the club but I'll be there in a minute

Take the lock off the door

And that way you won't even have to listen for me

Oh yeah, and leave some light on in the kitchen darlin'

I mess with the baddest hoes

Gotta go overseas to buy their clothes

Trees she got 'em rolled

Don't gotta deal with jealousy cause she not involved

Ain't trippin' on her man cause she got her own, yeah

Independent as can be still I'm the one they're calling

Be there then I'm in the wind, no breakfast in the morning

Fill, I'm in and out like it's fast food

People get to know me say I'm more than just a rap dude

Pay the cost to be the boss - no tax due

Now my money feelin' like it's tattooed

[Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y:]

I guarantee you leave the club with us you won't be the same

They can't help it c'mon these bitches know it's The Planes

Let all my money talk for me, what more can I say

That money will be seen, as soon as I put my key

You put your key in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

I put my key, you put your feet in, money we'll be seein'

We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', yeah yeah yeah yeah

Fly Niggas Do Fly Things lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Young Khalifa, man

How fly

We already a quarter pound in on this one

High you?

Yeah, we killing these blogs!

You already know my nigga

Ain't no turning back now

This shit on smash

Influenced by the reefer but I'm still positively speaking

Heading down to New Orleans fuck with Spitta for a weekend

Exotic bitches freakin', minks on the rug

I'm living Cliquot dreams, pouring drinks in the tub

One life to live, so I'mma live it up

Like you gotta pay for pussy, nigga

I don't give a fuck

Blow it on some new threads

Chickens give me new head

One look at my charm, they say I ain't doing too bad

My palms itching like you did when you rolled in grass

Flick another joint, I'm here but I just hope it lasts

On the beach with my amigos smoking hella Zags

Love the life we lead so we just make a toast and laugh

You say another day, I see it as another plane

Another dollar, another reason to ensure the fame

Every city they repping, they knowin' my name

We the Gang, Taylor-Jets painted on the wing

[Curren$y:]

On the road to riches and diamond rings

Fly niggas do fly things

Smoking weed with your bitch is the song we sing

Fly niggas do fly things

On the road to riches and diamonds rings

Fly niggas do fly things

Take the pictures 'front the Chevy is the song we sing

Kids looking up to me cause I'm a G

Would it be cliche

To start my verse by saying something that I always say

The planes got it

I perfected my roll in the science of aeronautics

I swear on my soul I would never cosign no nonsense

Muscle car auction

I just cop it and then garage it

Wait on the night to set then really pop it and drive it

Bitches run on side it

Like those little Jamaican kids

Who saw that Benz with Buns and Ox inside it

Word to Wale, Spitta OT in DC for 4 or 5 days

I got enough pair of fresh J's in my Crooks bag

Smelling like a pound, TSA what they looking at

Wanna pat me down, came up with nothing cousin

Pull away from ground transportation puffin'

Baking kush berry muffins

Mind on a million, trying to get this shit is puzzling

In the grand scheme of things, where you sit in this discussion

On the road to riches and diamond rings

Fly niggas do fly things

My palms itching like you did when you rolled in grass

Flick another joint, I'm here but I just hope it lasts

On the beach with my amigos smoking hella Zags

Love the life we lead so we just make a toast and laugh

You say another day, I see it as another plane

Another dollar, another reason to ensure the fame

Every city they repping, they knowin' my name

We the Gang, Taylor-Jets painted on the wing

On the road to riches and diamond rings

Fly niggas do fly things

S.D.L. lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa:]

I work hard for everything, so why not salute?

They say a grind pays baby, all I got is proof

And a Swedish broad badder than my main bitch

Cigarillo rolled, you smell it when it ain't lit

She don't cook well, but she give me sweet brain

Make a rapper turn singer like T-Pain

Got her stayin' up late; wakin' up, bake

And to think this the life that I chose?

Arguing with attendants who've shorted my flight clothes

And every girl I fuck, feel like her boyfriend might know

Smokin' all this weed as it smells, my weed come in barrels

Fuck wit bitches who fiend for Gucci and need her Chanel

Nigga, I'm higher off life so my eyes low

Can't wait to see what's in the future but I drive slow

And wait for the picture

Hated, now they say I can't miss like mister

All of this smokin'

Oh you, got me thinkin'

And all of this dreamin', I'm supposed to

Live life like, the weekend

Don't know where I'm goin'

Cause I'm gone, on to

Show you succeeding

Yeah I've been livin', smokin'

Smokin' dreamin' livin'

[Curren$y:]

I go to sleep with a picture of a Porche on my wall

Nigga I'm tryna come up on ya'll

Pop the trunk n front him my car, in front of your broad

She reconsidering her decision to fuck wit ya

I think it because of the

Possibility of kickin it courtside, ringside, front row of anything

Livin my life simultaneously in this dream

Shit goin so good I swear

Airplanes stack change wit the gang, Taylor

Wings spread over cities, leave shadows everywhere

I care less about industry mingling

Niggas was WWF wrestlers, court jesters and cross dressers

I got them cross-trainers, Nike, SB

Niggas can't fill my shoes I'ma nicer MC

I had a dream that I caked up

Tried to roll a joint, and count a million when I wake up

Jets, nigga!

[Wiz Khalifa:]

All of this smokin'

Oh you, got me thinkin'

And all of this dreamin', I'm supposed to

Live life like, the weekend

Don't know where I'm goin'

Cause I'm gone, on to

Show you succeeding

Yeah I've been livin', smokin'

Smokin' dreamin' livin'

All of this smokin'

Oh you, got me thinkin'

And all of this dreamin', I'm supposed to

Live life like, the weekend

Don't know where I'm goin'

Cause I'm gone, on to

Show you succeeding

Yeah I've been livin', smokin'

Smokin' dreamin' livin'

In The Middle lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Curren$y:]

It's the Planes and the Taylor Gang!

And I'm

Fuckin' with the Chronic 'cause the Chronic give me dopeness

Center of the camera focus

Once the car service doors open

I'm with a chick you only seen on magazine covers posing

I really know this bitch

I won't tell you I got it unless I could show you it

I'm not gon' tell you about it until I go through it

Formula One car, code word for solo whip

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you I'm cool

Weed lit

Lights flipped up on the Porsche

The same model Tony escaped from the club with

When them haters tried to knock him off

That's cold

Destroyer of the track I am Spitta Destro

You in the club line obeying the dress code

I drive by

Bitches making googley eyes

Google me Ma

I do that music so beautifully huh?

Believe that

JETS nigga retweet that

And In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs

In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop

In the Middle we stay calm we just drop bombs

In the Middle we stay calm we just drop we just drop

[Wiz:]

Yeah

Gang

Plus

Planes

JETS Taylor Gang

You know the slang

Bad bitches feeding me champagne

Show up smelling like weed on the plane

People cut they eyes but they don't say shit

Rep Taylor Gang plus the Planes bitch

Polo Socks

Bad Bitches dig em 'cause they know the flow so hot

They be at my shows hoping one day they can meet us

And maybe we'll smoke

I ain't on no Hollywood shit

You sexy and know how to handle your weed?

You probably cook bitch

Bong rips send us to Hong Kong trips

My life is a movie stick to the script

Can tell that it's quality before it's lit

He is I and I am him

Some bitches a lot of weed and gin

Tattoos cover half my skin

Hoes scream Taylor Gang out they roof

Plus they love the JETS music

Uh huh yeah

Lemme hear it

Layover lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Curren$y:]

Yeah, yeah

Yuh, jets nigga now where haven't we

Bitches, I 'Taylor Gang' that

Yuah

Yuah

How fly, uh?

The backseat is for newborns

Homie, I'm grown

I'll hop in front and drive this bitch on my own

Out the driveway windows half raised

Bumpin' Ma$e or some Sade'

Chuckin' the deuces to my neighbors

Like them Houston players

Got the two door Caprice

Black and red, like a Sega Genesis

Password first pimpin' or you can't get into this hangar

Access denied, you can't fly you a lame

Spiderman tangled in a web of lies

Global travel, red eyes

Plan plots, strategize

Double XL, now I'm after The Source and the Vibe

Only magazines yet to recognize in 2009

Nigga worth it, he deserve it

He ain't perfect, but he workin' on that second album

Dropped the first one with Amalgam

Digital dollars, afford flights

Where the massages will be provided

By my down ass exotic dancing Italian goddess

The planes got it

That's why she's ridin' with the pilot

Find Spitta smoked out in the same crowd

Where Waldo was spotted

Orange rectangle boxes in my pockets

Niggas on a quest like Jonny and Hadji

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Haha, yeah

(Jet set, now where haven't we been yet?)

How fly?

The mixtape it's officially done

This is it, right here

Haha, yeah, uh

I'm back better than ever

No hiatus, just weed crushers

Rollers, and one and a half wide papers

Catch me and Spitta smokin' up

You got trees? Nigga, light it

I heard this is a weed friendly environment

Seen 'em at my shows front row, gettin' excited

They all smoke and memorize my lines

Say I'm the tightest

Know bitches who rep the gang hard as niggas who do the same

And don't support the bullshit they only do the planes

In every city we smokin' like a train

They heard I'm swingin' past now them bitches gettin' gas, octane

Not a name to compare 'em to

I can skydive, no parachute

With just a dope pair of shoes

Zig zags and hella tattoos

Put you in a mindstate

That this is my movie

Put you in it too

The bomb weed make it critical

Sit with the vampire in his interview

Drunk Dialing lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Curren$y:]

Uh the club lite turn to sunrise

You know I still ain't done right

Skip my place and take you to yo crib

Im trynna roll a mega joint, raid yo fridge

You got the ps3 you love yo kid

Ima play his shit since he not here

And I still got a fetish for other niggas hoes

Still keep the tooth brush in my car

With some basketball shorts and a charger for my phone

You never know what will happen, spontaneous action

In the city of the Mardi Gras parades and gun clappin, quarterbacking

Not the center but I'm snapping bongs

Shorty don't be smoking like that she grown

Leon Phelps, Hugh Hef grotto flow

Boogie nights at the roxbury, Which way should we go huh?

6 in the morn'

But I don't wanna go home

So im driving from the club alone

Hoping one of these hoes answer they phones

(Got these bitches slippin' of they wedding rings)

(Its the planes and the gang)

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Yeah, 6 am chicks we slay them

Knowing favorite songs picks we play them

I ain't on some oh I'm just some big star shit, but tell you I sure afford it

My lifestyle, all the visuals are gorgeous

Spend nights out couple bitches at the fortress

Got all these lil hoes addicted, cause if it ain't broke then its rich bitch

I'm ridin' in my ride getting lifted

Thinkin' which chick I'ma Bruce Lee kick with

I roll another joint then start my mission

And hella watch her watch my prevision

Need a nigga that don't care what it cost him

Say you scared of heights but admit the view is awesome

And the weathers great, roll another plane, celebrate

And I'm in the sky so she ask me how I'm fly

[Curren$y:]

6 in the morn'

But I don't wanna go home

So im driving from the club alone

Hoping one of these hoes answer they phones

(Got these bitches slippin' of they wedding rings)

(Its the planes and the gang)

How Fly lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Curren$y:]

Uh, jets, nigga, now where haven't we?

Taylor Gang, stay rollin' up them paper planes

Yeah, yeah, jets, nigga, now where haven't we?

And I'm tryin' to get Grease to smoke joints, man

Tryin' to convert him to EZ Widers or Zig-Zags

Before I get back to New Orleans

Uh, how fly, yeah (How fly), yeah

Uh, same nigga that I always been

Mets hat with green under the brim

I shop in bulk, my closet a vault

Gettin' dressed, sippin' Rose' & OJ, light pulp

Lookin' like myself in my old Easter photos

Socks and my rugby is Polo

Stop, freeze, on three's my low low

Airplanes, dollar signs on tees, my logo

Kush smokin' circles in my dojo

Sneaker collector, I bring 'em out, kid

Kicks all over the crib, roundhouses

Uh, fuck you talkin' 'bout, Willis?

Yo' bitch fuckin' wit' Spitta 'cause she like her stroke different

Celebrate the moments of your life

We party all night (Uh), smoke all day (Yeah)

Breakfast in the airport, get drunk the whole flight, yeah

[Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa:]

This is how we do (How we do)

Everyday chase money, make bitches chase you (Chase you)

Nigga, this is how we do (How we do)

Race to the club, hop out and valet the coupes (Valet the coupes)

Nigga, this is how we do (How we do)

Under the shade of the good trees, we stay cool (Stay cool)

Yeah, yeah, and if the bitch can't roll weed (Uh)

No need to bring her through (Uh)

[Wiz Khalifa:]

I had a dream that I was smokin' California weed

And brother, I tell her give me what I need

Pull up in car service, flyin' private when I leave

I'm chillin', two pretty women who speakin' Japanese, nigga, please

I'm sellin' out concerts, some 501 pants that sag

Zig-Zags and my Converse

Spitta to my left, let him hit the bong first

Lame nigga asked if he get a hit

Little do he know that's a guaranteed way to get skipped

I find beautiful women and politic

Wakin' up, still drunk, feelin' sick

I'ma smoke one with you, roll another one for the whip

Listenin' to my brand new shit

My doors suicide, though my trees big chop provided

Fly society, and Taylor Gang or get hanged

Smokin' weed with your bitches when she told you she would never do it again

[Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa:]

This is how we do (How we do, haha, yeah)

Everyday chase money, make bitches chase you (Chase you)

Nigga, this is how we do (How we do)

Race to the club, hop out and valet the coupes (Valet the coupes)

Nigga, this is how we do (How we do)

Under the shade of the good trees, we stay cool (Stay cool)

Yeah, yeah, and if the bitch can't roll weed

No need to bring her through

Friendly lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Currens$y:]

Yeah, jets nigga

The planes and the Taylor Gang, man

Lamborghini wings and champagne

Jets and Monsta Beatz

Bitches, now Taylor Gang that

Bitches, now Taylor Gang that

Jets, holla at Wiz

By the strength of the quality weed smell

You can tell that I'm somewhere in the building on my Batman shit

Niggas suspended from the ceiling

Not really, but that's the way the weed got me feeling

Gondola rides in Venice

Mami you got the vision and I see in HD

And it couldn't be any clearer

You should be with Spitta

And you know that this your chance

Don't blow it like birthday candles

Good guy Spitta keep his name outta them scandals

It's not a secret, I prefer my girls in sneakers, never sandals

Posing naked in only a pair of Nike Vandals

Bottles pop, back to back

Extra large chronic sack

Cellphone, camera's out

Mama I remember that

Anytime I look at that

I go to wondering where you at

So baby where you at, with it

I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly

And maybe we get back up in a minute

Fast cars

Fly clothes

G5's flying over seashores

Get it

Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly

So tell me if you is

Or if you isn't

With it

(Yeah)

Fast cars

Fly clothes

G5's flying on the seashores

Get it

Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly

So tell me if you is

Or if you isn't

With it

(Yeah)

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Listen, if you with it, get in

What you sippin'?

Hit it out of the park

That's if you pitchin'

First you look at me wrong

Like uh-uh, no he didn't

Then you turn into Robin on me

You start to give-in, get it?

By the beach, watching tennis

Crack another bottle of Pérignon

Louis V carry-ons when you visit

Sending all them signals in your sidekick sentence

Then I reply, like "Be there in a minute"

Just put me and Curren$y on your friend list

The weed come from a village

Truck tire, sour diesel scented, that's real shit

From smelling this she wanna see how the cigar taste

We lighting reefer, bumping 808s and heartbreaks

Skinny broad, but out them jeans she got a heart shape

Skip the movie date and take her to the horse race

And let you bet it all, keep the winnings

Young entrepreneur, give you the business, dig it

(Yeah)

Fast cars

Fly clothes

G5's flying over seashores

Get it

Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly

So tell me if you is

Or if you isn't

With it

(Yeah)

Fast cars

Fly clothes

G5's flying over seashores

Get it

Baby I'm just tryna hit it on the friendly

So tell me if you is

Or if you isn't

With it

(Yeah)

The Life lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Yeah

It's Young Khalifa man, Curren$y the Hot Spitta

Look in the mirror man, ask yourself one thing

How Fly, yeah

Foot on the gas, I'm fast living, picture me

I ain't have no pot to piss in now I'm checking bags

Chief and hash with politicans, helicopter pads

Some hoes to get to know and hella Zags, no tags

I ain't one to brag, but if you ain't trying to hear

About the money drugs and women then I ain't one to ask

Smoke so much that I'm going brain dead

Hoes mad at me cause my phone's off until my plane land

I tell her whoa, slow down baby

And Spitta with me, it's enough to go round lady

You drive by, I give her wings Redbull and Jim buckets

A couple of paper planes

Broadcasting my name over Internet airwaves

Bitches hear me on Twitter put my music on there Myspace pages

If you smoke then roll up and play this

Me and Hot Spitta come where the planes is

[Curren$y:]

She said she wants to sip Clicquot on my living room floor

Smoke weed hang with other famous people I know

Gain access to exculsive places I go

Lavish and dangerous, this the life I chose

But I wouldn't change it for nothing

Sex, money and drugs, runways, sports cars, and luggage

Better to be somebody for one day

Then to be a nobody for your whole life so fuck it

Yeah get the cork out the bottles

Put the purp in the easy wider

Spitta in the house, hide your lighters, I take 'em

A case of mistaken identity

My bad fool I could of swore I brought this one in with me

In the cinnamon interior

Not tinted early 80's box Chevy with a Crate engine

Hijacking your women, you left her unattended

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Fly when I'm on that liqour

The way of the samauri, I got my chi centered

Sharp as blades, these bars I lay

Forever the player and never played

I slay them bitches I never save

Bomb ass trees they get blazed

Palm trees we use them for the shade

What else can I say I got it made

Like I had it built, Taylor Gang or get killed, yeah

Surface To Air lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

Jets nigga now where haven't we

They look up to jets nigga now where haven't we

Fuck boys wondering if the bitch next

Ask yourself

How fly

The planes and the Taylor Gang

[Curren$y:]

Haters stand clear of em

Y'all stand cheer for em

Shook away from lames and over came let's hear it for em

Zig zag smoke, magic lyrics appear to em

Outta nowhere air hare Jordans

Kicked up sitting behind a mahogany desk

Crumbling 'erb just as Big Boi and Andre would suggest

Flow sick need a check up

Flow sick that's how I got my checks up

Bad bitches gold digging lame niggas

Out a trip to foreign places or bracelet or necklace

Then slide through the set and fuck the JETS cause she respect us

You think you got a winner but you don't I bet she let us

Pickles, tomatos, onions, mayo, mustard, and ketchup, the works

Driving in a Aquifina truck to the club

Cause Wiz told me that these bitches was thirst

Crash test dummy honey need a helmet cause she jumping head first

It's amazing how I get so high and stay so down to Earth

Ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile

Old sucka-ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself

Cause ain't nobody fucking with us

You didn't put a hundred on it then you can't hit it

Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting

Yea it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang

Lame niggas putting locks and chains on they bitches

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Smoke filled rooms

Camera lens zooms from a mile away you can smell the fumes

College girls play me in their iPod or Zune

Even bitches with bad attitudes bumping to our tunes

They high maintenance

Give em wings let em fly places

Introduce you to high times, flavors, and sky scrapers

Rolling in lime papers and Randy's

Smoking out somewhere where the sand be

Plan B killing these kids

Not Michael Jackson

I ain't feeling these kids

And you hating such a shame that's where your energy is

I'm in a Gfizz flying

Leave your bitches with the planes now she sky diving

Hella vibing

And your hating adds just more steam

More chips now I'm living more Rothstein

So for every thing it's worth

I travel all four corners of the Earth putting in work

Ain't nah niggas iller, explosive and fly, surface to air missile

Old sucka-ass nigga go somewhere and fuck yourself

Cause ain't nobody fucking with us

You didn't put a hundred on it then you can't hit it

Me and my nigga Wiz will smoke an ounce in one sitting

Yea it's the Planes and the Taylor Gang

Lame niggas putting locks and chains on they bitches

Over The Building lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

I'm in the air

All I want is the money and I see it so clear

Weed in my grinder

Mind on a million

Taylor Gang on The Planes

You know we over the building

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you recognize game I should be looking familiar

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you reconize a g I should be lookin familiar

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Party and chillin and fast livin how im suppose too

Not the choices given I chose too

Leave the club with a couple of hoes who

Love to smoke trees

Rolling in e-z wider papers

Maintain a low speed

Now should I proceed

Come from a city where niggas ain't got a lot

But got it locked

So I be low key

Money hoes clothes is all a nigga knows

Don't bring a nug

I blow it by the O

I hit the road

Cause shit is exactly how it seems

While cats been sleeping on me I been livin out my dream

The marijuana is loud but my sorroundings are serene

I'm laughin and smoking hoping my camera catch the scene

Fresh up out the plane

Flick another paper

Shorty wanna ride with me

As bad as I wanna taker her

Put you in demand

Bitches taking flicks with the planes

And send them to their friends

Weed to grind mind on a million

And we over the building

I'm in the air

All I want is the money and I see it so clear

Weed in my grinder

Mind on a million

Taylor Gang on The Planes

You know we over the building

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you recognize game I should be looking familiar

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you reconize a g I should be lookin familiar

[Curren$y:]

And I'm livin like a balla loc

I'm having money and blowing hella chronic smoke

Did we just become best friends with these hoes on a boat

Well probably so

But we don't love them no

Only can cake causes my heart to palpitate

Darling

Clean that money

Keep this dirty ball revolving

No pausing

I get too high to have downtime

No matter what your watch say nigga it's my time

I hear them critics right now

"All them fools make is weed songs" blah blah blah

You sound like a sucka

Tune ya out

As I'm tuning up my chevelle

This weekend I'mma pull it out

Lay some rubber down slanging rocks everywhere

People mad as a mothafucka

But he jet connected so they know they can't touch em

Airborn from here on been sworn in

Fat pockets cause I took chance even when they were slim

I'm in the air

All I want is the money and I see it so clear

Weed in my grinder

Mind on a million

Taylor Gang on The Planes

You know we over the building

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you recognize game I should be looking familiar

If they ask me how fly

I'mma tell ya

If you reconize a g I should be lookin familiar

Rollin Up lyrics - Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa

And I'mma keep rollin' up

Puttin' the weed low when the police is rollin' up

Fool all I know is go

Don't let them haters slow me up

Stashing for my unborn

They ballin' when they old enough

[Curren$y:]

Yeah J.E.T.S., nigga

As if I had to say it, Spitta

In the middle of every bad bitches playlist

ITunes bangin' from my hotel room

Nothing but beats bitch

Fuck it when I die I could sleep, bitch

My momma need a bigger crib so I need this money Jake

King Kong ain't got shit on me

My face is a coupon

I don't know them but they know me

Bitches pitch it, like pitchers

But I'm smart not a wild swinger careful at what I'm hittin'

Burners in the sofa cushion careful where you sittin'

Ain't into nothin' crazy

Keep it for them crazy niggas

G fizz fly, holla at Wiz, catch the Steelers

Smellin' like high-time at the fifty-yard line

Ushers bugging wanna check our tickets

And I'mma keep rollin' up

Puttin' the weed low when the police is rollin' up

Fool all I know is go

Don't let them haters slow me up

Stashing for my unborn

They ballin' when they old enough

[Wiz Khalifa:]

And um, my niggas the planes back

Gettin' full off of dinner but save scraps

Never know when a rainy day may hap-

-Pen pictures out of my life and bitches, I Taylor gang that

Me and spitta, spend a grand at the bar

Buyin' drinks for my niggas

Hoes sellin' they souls just to be with us

On the road with winners, champions

Ride smokin' weed to myself the only reason they stress

Because I'm on the level you can't be in

And I flick the middle finger to fake friends

We live like when the loyalty is strong you can't bend

We the planes and all of my niggas stamped in

Billionaire clothes out in Vegas fucking millionaire hoes

I'm in the air solo

You nowhere near close

Went and took the road this young'un here chose

Smokin' it by the O

Curren$y other songs:

 

A Kid From The Town lyrics - Nym Lo, Statik Selektah & Curren$y

Once upon a time not long ago

There was a kid from the town that wanted all the dough

Money bags, champagne, cars and clothes

So sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Sit sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Here we go

Back when 50cent dropped how to rob

I was trynna whip exotic cars out a jar turnin powder hard

In and out the projects

Grew up every day strugglin so I had a complex

Ha ha yes

Activate the heated steering wheel plus the seats and watch it heat up the arm rest

I get in the car and dash like Kan West

Headed north

Champagne popped the cork top is off

Not bad for a high school drop out

Pockets full pullin the drop out

32 oz tomahawk from the Brooklyn Chop House

I used to serve fiends in the trap house with my strap out

Now the wrist like Aspen they need Asprin they head hurt

Dior on my jacket and my sweatshirt

Trynna come up I was servin them the wet work

Stackin loaf increasing my net worth

Lo

Once upon a time not long ago

There was a kid from the town that wanted all the dough

Money bags, champagne, cars and clothes

So sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Sit sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Here we go

It's like this and like that and like this and uh

Michael drivin his Ferrari to the United Center

Another day at the office the crowd applaud when the bosses enter

Livin the life of sinners though we are born winners

Full length furs preparing for a long winter

Prayin for strength praying for forgiveness

Survival of the fittest

Mercedes AMG kitted bbs rimmed it

Didn't tint it

Sitting back in it reminiscin bout how we did it

Live to tell the story but we ain't sayin shizzit

East side all the time nigga know the business

If we involved in it

It's gotta be the biggest

Marijuana scented

But that should be a given

Cost a half a million

Loan it to my homies like it's just a rental

But I cashed out on the spot

The whole car lot witnessed

The dealer wanted to take a picture

Nigga

Once upon a time not long ago

There was a kid from the town that wanted all the dough

Money bags, champagne, cars and clothes

So sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Sit sit back and listen to the song he wrote

(Once upon a time)

Here we go

After Hours lyrics - Young Roddy, Curren$y & Smoke DZA

Trynna drink away my pain, that made me throw up (throw up)

They shot my nigga in the back, that made him slow up (slow up)

Might let my bitch drive while I roll up

My brother fighting a charge but we don't fold up (we don't fold up)

My girl say she scared for me, I just tell her pray for me (amen)

OG had to pay the lawyer fees with cocaine money

Forty years flat, two of my niggas got the same number

Heart turned cold, damn look at what the game done ya

Might cop the Wraith, the double Rs on the headrests

For mama because she worked too hard, the doc said she needs bedrest

Really from the hood, I take you spots where they be spraying at

Where I lost my mans at, sold my first grams at

Them goons get the drop on your spot and it get ransacked

Fresh up out the gutter where they shootin and throwing hands at

Crabs in a barrel, never let them fuck your plans up

Mother fuck the cops, them crackers shooting us with our hands up

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck

Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up

We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up

Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one

Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from

Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one

Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come

When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something

Fuck around and I aim at your kingdom

Niggas ain't dumb

Look, they tried to pass it off to them other niggas, we ain't them

Real niggas rep around the globe where we came from

Route sent a kite, I'm like say when'

He knows his nigga DZA get it shaking like a paint can

Know some niggas hating on the net through on their fake grams

Really they be pussy and they really be confused cuz they fans

Pardon the fallen, pardon me darling

I ball, I belong in the Barclay, the Garden

The Harlem bred, they aren't us

This thing of ours belong to us, it's all in trust,

Chronic and foreign trucks

With all the feats, all our retreats

Jewelry, expensive feets

Women wearing the least

Pose another selfie for the freaks

Rollin up the hottest thing smoking in the streets

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck

Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up

We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up

Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one

Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from

Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one

Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come

When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something

Tires wet like they black glass

Trunk in the front, motor in back, you know it's fast

I could teach a class, but that's too much game

For me to lands two semesters, you'll need so many life lessons

You'll need to sit down for so many sessions

Them losses that I took was really blessings

Above my shoulder is my sharpest weapon

Like a Smith and Wesson killing beats and bring them checks in

I done turned into a bill collector

I bought a office space, I'm waiting on the building inspector

Get these permits, these licenses, then it's back to balling out and buying shit

Always knew I'd be rich, ain't know which woman I would end up with

Player for life, bitch I'd never quit

And on my Tre first homeboys I would never switch up

That's that sucka stuff, that's not for us

I hit Rolls Royce dealer, got a coupe and a truck

Eat my dust

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck

Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up

We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up

Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one

Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from

Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one

Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come

When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something

Editorials lyrics - Jay Worthy, Harry Fraud & Curren$y

(La Musica de Harry Fraud)

Blood Orange Pellegrino match the flame Buick Regal

The way I play the Vegas strip, you would think I'm Bugsy Siegel

This the rebirth of Max Julien, I'm far from a Hooligan

A soft spoken gentlemen, who got a few lady friends

SL Mercedes Benz, that's just for the weekends

The fruits of her labor, what she did for a Mac then

Electric blinds sliding down the windows at the Bel Air

Room Service, Champagne bottles in the hot tub

Private suite, told her book that shit for another week

Egyptian cotton pillow sheets, nothing but the best for P

Funny thing is, a nigga live right up the street

Close to the Palisades, but I can't give too much away

They follow niggas home, and leave 'em soaking in they driveway

That's why you'll never catch me hanging with a bitch up at my own place

Fuck a stash in my ride, it's in my lap when I slide, mane

'Cause nowadays, you gotta be the first to squeeze your shit, gang

Editorial, how the story go?

It was the beat or me, I can't be sorry fo'

Moving on our road, like dice across the globe

On ice, yellow gold Millionaire, mellow flow

Professional Camaro, pedal steppin' on

This the '90, my other one a '81

I'm seconds from the top, where haters come

Gunning for your spot, you gotta watch out, my nigga, and wait for them

Sure as the morning will bring us the sun

Them niggas hungry, and they want it

But them niggas don't want to work for nothin'

But they lurk in the shadows

They wait until you look too comfortable, then they decide to attack you

The fact them niggas coming for you just look bad for you

But you can't let no fuck shit happen too you

High Grade lyrics - The Yutes & Curren$y

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

We came from nothin, came so far

Link up the plug on the herb farm

Tell him that I'm gonna need the greens

Cuz him know seh it keep the world calm

We use to use dream and watch the stars

Them know the yutes they know who we are

We came from nothin turn it to sumn put that on world star,

I cannot leave all my people they know that I'm with them foreal

Ain't none of these niggas my equal if you'r not grinding foreal yeah

Cuz I'm high like a space ship

Go where ever it's takes me

My heart never racing (yea aye)

Suh tell dem fi free it

Tell dem nuh cease it

The people dem need it (yea aye)

The feeling amazing it takes me some places (yea yea yea yea yeaaaa)

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

So much it's all in a U-Haul truck

Gotta have strong arms to roll up (roll up)

20 joints a day ain't enough (ain't enough)

We finna roll us a hundred bruh (a hundred bruh)

Andretti OG all I puff

Don't pass me none of that other stuff

Although maybe once or twice a day

Might burn on that London pound cake

The homie Berner came through and he blazed the place

I got some in my suitcase (suitcase)

I got a mill cause I signed my name (signed my name)

Rap game, dope game, all the same (all the same)

Them niggas you with is all kind of lame (all kind of lame)

Beauty chains they should be ashamed

Outside smoking on my own strain

My nigga you got to own thangs

Studying high, got high grades

High prices I paid for the nicer thangs

High rise up there with the planes

Sleep in the cloud though it's loud

We don't hear a thang

When them broke boys complain (complain)

Got chrome and candy paint

Art show on the interstate (yeah)

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

Guh fi the grabba that we need a lotta

Fi touch the street but mi can't even botha (botha)

Can't even sleep, if it nuh propa (propa)

Givenchy jeans, with the bank robba (robba)

Up in that thot got her calling me poppa

I just got a whip just for chasing the gwala

N this shit I'm smoking on worth every dollar

is like every plane, come with a saga (saga ya)

Cuz it be a movie nigga (nigga)

Clouds coming out of the room (room)

so high up I got me a seat on the moon nigga

Tell em legalize it soon

that's word to the government straight from the yutes nigga

Riding around with the blue cheese

One call I pull up if you need

I do not fuck with no goofy

I got some rock round my neck for real (forreal)

Remember when I smoke the blue dream

French inhaling I felt the chills (felt the chills)

Smoking before I could pay the bills (bills)

n that ain't gon change like stainless steel (still)

We in the truck getting faded still

don't blow my high when we came to chill

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more

Yea we smoking high grade (yeah yeah yeah)

We got so much more